


The Twelve Months: A Midwinter's Tale

by ghtlovesthg



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Complete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 20:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghtlovesthg/pseuds/ghtlovesthg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the longest night of the year, Katniss experiences the shortest twelve months of her life. Everlark Fairytale AU. PiP Holiday Round Submission</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Galanthus

 

 

 

__

  
_*~*~_ **1** _~*~*_

Katniss trudged heavily through the snow, not even worrying about scaring off potential game. There was none to be found; the few half-starved squirrels she'd bagged at dusk seemed to be the only animals foolish enough to be out of a den, burrow, or nest on this bitterly cold night.

It was far too dark for further hunting or tracking. She should be home. Hunting in this light was not only pointless, but dangerous as well, a fact her stepmother and stepsister didn't concern themselves with. They kept her home all day completing the chores and tasks they didn't wish to, yet still expected a full game bag upon her return, after preventing her from setting out until late afternoon. As the nights got longer and colder, Katniss couldn't help but wonder if they hoped that one night, she wouldn't come back at all.

And even though the cold was so sharp as to be painful, she wasn't hurrying home, either. These woods, hollow and lonely in the crisp silence of the night, felt more like home now than the cottage by the woods where she'd grown up. Katniss could feel her father here. He had been the last of her kin to leave her, and his spirit somehow permeated the spaces between the branches. She often thought she saw him, darting between tree trunks out of the corner of her eye. But whenever she turned to look, she'd catch only the edge of a mockingjay wing, the bird flitting away to a place she couldn't follow.

Perhaps he had not found Prim and her mother yet, in that other world, so he stuck close, clinging to the familiar before moving on. But for his sake, she hoped he was with them. There was little worth staying for here- she should know.

Her feet slowed on the path. There was something different about these woods, hidden from plain sight but felt nonetheless. The trees felt like monuments to her family. At one time, their livelihood and happiness had originated here: her mother foraging, her father hunting and trapping, she and Prim running wild all over. Their memory called to her on her hunts. The wind whistled through tangled branches, over gnarled, knotted trunks, whispering for her to come closer, step off the path and let the dark, sentinel-like forms enclose her, shelter her in their swaying arms.

It was tempting. Perhaps she'd never find the path again. Katniss wondered if the quiet that invited her deeper into the forest could lead her to her loved ones. All she'd have to do was wish her father's bow a final goodnight and leave it on the worn trail for Woodcutter Hawthorne to find. They'd all assume she'd been attacked by some wild creature or spirited away by some fantastical being. Such things were rumored to abound in the heart of the forest. The quiet, foreboding promise of the darkened wood sounded far preferable to the beating she'd likely receive upon returning home with only a few squirrels in her game bag.

Her stepmother didn't take well to disappointment, nor perceived disobedience. Though the woman had once been married to a baker, there was nothing sweet about her or the cruel daughter she'd named for a spice. Katniss had never been able to understand why her grieving father remarried the baker's bitter widow, bringing the woman and Clove into their lives. She feared he had done it for her sake. With a king that feared and eradicated anything that could be construed as witchcraft, being a healer's daughter was a damaging, dangerous stigma. It was possible her father married a baker's widow to distance them from his late wife's profession. Katniss was safe, but with him gone as well, there was no one left that she loved.

The forest's silent invitation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of a man crying out in distress. Katniss quickly turned and peered into a different patch of trees, noticing a faint light in the distance. Worried that the brusque but goodhearted woodcutter had met with some danger – these woods were full of wild dogs - beasts especially reckless when hungry in this desperate season - she nocked an arrow and ran towards his direction to help.

However, it was not Gale she found, but an older man in military garb. He was laying in the snow, groaning in pain, with a large tree limb pinning his leg to the ground. The man was stretching and flailing, contorting his body in an effort to get a grip on the damp wood and roll it off him. Katniss hastened to his side, eager to assist.

"Oh Miss! Thank God! I can't get enough leverage on this branch to get my foot out. The damn thing just snapped under the weight of the snow and came down on me!"

The heavy snow had a tendency to send dead tree limbs down to the ground with alarming speed. As Katniss heaved and pushed at the branch, she was slowly able to roll it enough for the man to extricate his foot.

"Are you badly hurt?" she asked breathlessly once he'd yanked free.

"It's sprained, I think," he said, "and I'm damned lucky that's all. I think the snow cover helped to cushion the impact. If you hadn't happened upon me, I don't know if I could have worked it off of my leg. I could have died of exposure."

Katniss nodded in agreement. It was uncommonly lucky that she'd been nearby when it had happened and not once he'd frozen to death.

"I'm Captain Boggs, Miss. May I inquire as to the name of my hale little savior?"

Katniss flushed and bowed a sloppy curtsy. She was merely a peasant villager, she'd never conversed with a captain in the King's military. "Katniss Everdeen, sir."

"And pray tell," he inquired,"what could bring one such as yourself out on this bitterly cold evening? Shouldn't you be at home, warm by the fire?"

Katniss averted her eyes. She really preferred not to discuss her home life. "What of you, sir? How does this night find a soldier of the imperial guard in a common wood?"

At this, Boggs threw his head back and boomed a great, deep laugh, "A soldier at my age! Bless you for saying so! But I'm not just any captain my dear, I am the Captain of the Guard! I report directly to King Coriolanus."

Katniss' eyes widened in disbelief. She was standing and chatting with the highest ranking military commander in the land.

"And I am here to find a tree," he added.

"A tree?" It seemed he had achieved his task, as they were surrounded on all sides by them. She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Yes, but not just _any_ tree," he clarified. "I have been given the... _honor_ of finding the most perfect tree in all the forest, one fit for the grand ballroom of the Snow palace. Beautiful enough to compete with the gold and jewels that will adorn its boughs, and big enough to spread over the gifts sent to the royal family from all over the land."

"But why should the king send his best military adviser out on such a night, just for a tree?"

"Ah, but the king didn't send me," he explained sadly. "It was his granddaughter who ordered me here."

"Has she no respect for your position or well being?"

"I'm afraid not," he sighed. "It seems she thinks finding the perfect fir is just the sort of task that should occupy the Captain of the Guard. And as she is next in line for the throne, I am bound to obey her to the the exclusion of all, save the King, who is known for indulging her every whim."

"Well, surely a lesson will be learned when she has to send someone out all over again tomorrow. Let's hope she sends a woodsmen next time, and during daylight. Here, I'll help you back on your horse and you can return and soak your foot," Katniss directed.

"Miss, I cannot return without that tree," he protested. "I would be severely punished! Snow may not care for the task itself, but he cares greatly about insolence and disobedience- especially from high ranking officers and officials! Once an order is issued, by himself or his granddaughter, one must obey. The more lofty your position, the more eager King Coriolanus is to remove you from it. Now, I would appreciate assistance back on my horse, but I shall continue searching for the tree," he insisted.

Katniss surveyed the scene. The horse was hitched to a long, narrow sled, undoubtedly intentioned for carrying a fir tree. A sturdy axe was affixed to the saddle. Sighing, she stooped to brace Captain Boggs with her shoulder, slinging her arm under his own as he hobbled to his horse with her support.

She knew that the later it got, the more she'd be made to regret returning home. But she couldn't leave Captain Boggs here, injured, as the deathly cold of the night settled around them like fog.

"I know of just the tree. I'll take you to it."

He looked like he wanted to protest for her sake, but she stared at him, determination in her eyes, decision already made. He had to know he'd never accomplish his task in his poorly state.

"Thank you, child."

Once he was on his mount, Katniss drew the reins into her hands and led the horse forward slowly, weaving through trees in silence.

"You never told me why a young girl is alone in a treacherous forest at night," Boggs reminded gently.

Katniss sighed. "I am tasked with bringing home a game bag full of rabbits and fowl."

"Surely that's impossible, in this dark, with the scarcity of this winter," the knight captain protested.

Katniss merely nodded her agreement. What was there to say?

The silence lapsed once more.

"Well, you deserve much better, my lass. If I ever find myself in a position to help you, I shall certainly endeavor to do so."

She turned to look back at him, touched. "Thank you."

"And how did you come to know the location of this tree?"

Katniss smiled. "My father knew the wending animal trails of this wood better than the lines of his own palm. You'd think he'd been the playmate of fawns and fox kits as a child. Though he showed me as much as he could before he died, there are a great many areas I do not know as well as he did."

Katniss didn't usually like talking about her father, it was too painful, but somehow tonight, in his woods with a man who spoke to her with kindness, something she'd not heard since her father was alive, Katniss suddenly needed to talk about him again.

"This evergreen is deep enough in the wood that even our woodcutter, Gale Hawthorne, has not found it. And a good thing, for it is far too majestic for kindling. If it must be cut, it deserves to have it's boughs laden in precious metals and gems."

When they finally entered a clearing, the tree in question came into view, its deep green branches glittering under a blanket of snow, spreading its reach across the space like a bird stretching its wings to display magnificent plumage. The stillness of the clearing made one feel as though the whole forest was holding its breath in deference to the splendor of the arbor. Boggs knew he would have nothing to fear when returning to the palace.

"As splendid as this tree is, there is an even greater beauty in this wood," Katniss continued quietly. "It's deeper in the forest than I've ventured alone. I've only seen it once and never since, but it was shown to me by my father. A lake as round as a perfect saltwater pearl, with a willow tree, massive and ancient, leaning over the water. The tree dips leafy tendrils into the currents, rippling the mirror's edge of the water.

"I wish I could see it again," Katniss whispered.

She shook herself from her nostalgic reverie. "I suppose I'll do the chopping, as I've never seen a man fell a tree on an injured foot." And before Boggs could agree or protest, Katniss had unfastened the axe from the saddle and approached the trunk.

The forest shook with the resonating thuds and thwacks of an axe and its wielder, determined to save the life of an old soldier on a cold winter's evening.

 _*~*~_ **2** ~* _~*_

King Coriolanus twisted his mouth into a sort of sardonic grimace. Everything, everywhere, was white. The balustrades were festooned in garlands and banners of the finest, palest silk. Exquisite glass icicles and snowflakes hung from every lintel and dangled from the vaulted ceilings. The halls were simply choked with white roses. Each chandelier dripped with an abundance of lit candles, and the tree was laden with white poinsettia and white-gold ornaments inlaid with opals. The servants had decorated its branches through the night since its arrival yesterday.

Despite standing in the midst of the most lavish winter wonderland the kingdom had ever seen, his granddaughter was pouting.

"Whatever is the matter, my dove?" Coriolanus chimed with great disinterest.

"It's all these roses! They throw the whole thing off. Roses are better suited to the _summer_ , they don't belong in my winter fairyland! I want a different flower for the halls of the palace!" she complained.

The king narrowed snake-like, rheumy eyes at his last living heir. His granddaughter was the dearest to him of all his relations. That wasn't saying much. The majority of his family had died by his own hand.

One by one, he had suspected each member of the Snow line was plotting for his throne, and had acted accordingly. His foolish little granddaughter, named Coin for money itself, was as covetous and grasping as he was paranoid and heartless. And in this, her blatant, irredeemable avarice, he could relate to her with his own hunger for power. Had she been older, he would have poisoned her, for she'd never be able to resist lusting for the throne. As it was, he would be deteriorating just as she was coming of age, so he had let her live, to continue the family's rule. With enemies and allies out of the way, he concerned himself only with the endless search for more power.

"Then you must choose a different flower, my blossom. Whichever you desire. We shall fill the halls with them," he answered. He turned back to his one-man chess game.

"Well then I want _Galanthus nivalis_!"

"The _common_ snowdrop? Isn't that a wildflower?" he inquired with disgust.

"Yes, but it's beautiful, and even bears our namesake! It will be perfect. None shall ever forget a palace full of galanthus in the yuletide," she boasted.

"As you say, my jewel," Snow muttered, eager to have the conversation done with. "Now leave the rest to me. "Plutarch! Plutarch Heavensbee!"

Once the Prime Minister answered his summons, Princess Coin's desires were communicated.

"B-but," he spluttered, "galanthus won't be in bloom until spring! It's simply _impossible_ to get enough to fill these halls," Plutarch protested.

"You filled them with roses, didn't you? And roses aren't winter flowers either!" Coin insisted petulantly.

"Yes, but we have hothouses full of them, as they are your grandfather's personal favorite, and the official flower of the kingdom," Minister Heavensbee reasoned, looking to the king for support.

Snow growled as he took another pawn with his white king. This nonsense was distracting him from maneuvering into a position to fell the dark queen.

"Heavensbee!" Snow boomed. "I do not care _how_ you do it, but I want to see the palace full of snowdrops by yuletide! And _don't_ disappoint me!" he hissed.

Trembling, Minister Heavensbee hurried from the room.

*~*~ **3** ~*~*

Katniss winced as she set a bowl of the coarse grain the king allotted to his subjects under the apple tree. Merah had not been impressed with the squirrels last night, and had made it known – in the form of a line of deep purple bruises all down Katniss' arm.

Her stepmother and stepsister were getting ready to go into town. Clove wanted to select some shawls and maybe a basket to use in the new year, and Merah had planned on trading game for spending money. When she had failed to deliver, Merah stormed into her little room and grabbed the pelts Katniss was saving for a new blanket as restitution. On her way out, she'd spied Katniss' mockingjay pin, a precious gift from her father, and taken that as well. Katniss was enraged, and half tempted to physically force her to return it – heaven knew she was skilled with bow and arrow – but the memory of her family stopped her. She knew her father, mother, and most especially her sister Prim wouldn't want her to stoop to their level and use violence to get her way.

So instead, she held her tears and consoled herself by feeding the mockingjays, the one animal she would never hunt, for her father had loved them so. They gathered in the gnarled old apple tree, eagerly anticipating the grain she regularly set out, and it was one of the few things that still brought her joy to see.

She was so diverted watching them hop about and whistle to each other that she didn't hear Merah and Clove exit the house.

"Are you wasting what little we have on _birds_?" Merah shrieked.

Clove laughed spitefully as she carved an apple into wedges. "Well I guess she can do whatever she'd like with her supper. Just make sure that's all the food she gets today."

As Katniss glared at Clove, she saw the girl smirk while considering the mockingjays. Raising her arm, she hurled the knife she'd been using toward the feeding birds.

It lodged itself in the trunk of the tree with a resounding thud, and the birds scattered in terror. Katniss could barely breathe, still recovering from the fear that Clove had hit one.

"See if they let you feed them after that!" Clove gloated.

"And to make sure you don't go on wasting food," Merah continued, "I'm locking the house up tight. We need kindling anyways, and chopping firewood ought to keep you warm enough until we're back." With that, Merah tucked the key into her pocket and they started on their way.

Katniss sat at the foot of the apple tree, shaking in anger and eating what was left of the hard grains in the dish she'd brought out. This would be her only meal today. _She_ was the one that provided food for the family, yet it was she who continually suffered at the whims of Clove and Merah. As she ground the tough grains between her teeth, she wondered just how much more of this she could take.

Luckily, chopping firewood did indeed keep one warm. But after she'd been at it several hours, there were no more logs to split, unless she went back into the forest. That she did not want to do. Katniss had sweat in her exertion, and the air was rapidly cooling the damp layers of her clothing. She was quickly becoming chilled and hoped they'd return soon, as the temperature was dropping as night drew nearer. It also looked like a snowstorm was approaching. She tried to keep moving for warmth, but the extended exertion of the past hours had exhausted her.

When the two finally returned a good hour and three quarters after she'd finished, she was shivering. But once Katniss saw the appraising look in their eyes, gleaming with greed, and the basket clutched tightly in Clove's fist, her shivers were of a whole new kind. By now she was huddled at the door, waiting for them to open it, but they made no move to do so.

"By order of King Coriolanus, Prime Minister Heavensbee has promised a basketful of gold to anyone who can bring galanthus blooms to the palace!" Clove announced excitedly.

Katniss didn't need to consult her parent's plant book to know there would be no baskets of gold given to the kingdom's subjects this year. Finding galanthus simply wasn't possible in December. She watched them tiredly, wondering what the excitement on their faces meant for her, and when she'd be able to go inside and get warm.

"You know the forest better than anybody Katniss, and if it weren't for _your_ laziness, we'd have the money we need for the things we want! So it should be you who finds the galanthus!" Merah declared.

Katniss staggered to her feet in shock. "What? But that's impossible, you know that! Even if I _wanted_ to collect some, I couldn't! It's just a waste of time!"

She wanted to offer that her time could be much better spent hunting, a pursuit that might actually yield some reward, but Katniss was starting to fear she'd be sent into the woods in the approaching blizzard if such a suggestion was made.

"Don't be so difficult! You're good at foraging, I'm sure you'll manage to find some in no time! Now I want you to _fill_ this basket- the more flowers, the more gold!

Katniss shook her head, clinging to the door. They couldn't be serious. It was a fool's errand, and on this night, a deadly one.

But Clove yanked her back, and Merah edged herself between Katniss and the doorway. Pushing the basket into her arms and giving her a great shove backwards, Clove sent Katniss sprawling. Famished and exhausted from chopping firewood for hours, Katniss landed in a heap on the ground.

The other women rushed up the steps and into the house, locking the door behind them with an audible click. But not before Merah called out, "Don't even think about showing your face here again without the galanthus!"

Katniss dragged herself to her feet and pounded on the door, but her efforts were met with silence. She tried to fight the wave of the despair that hovered, threatening to wash over her and render her useless, but she was only able to hold back the tears. She was going to die tonight.

For a time, Katniss stayed there, trying to get her panicked breathing under control and banging periodically on the wood in desperation. But the door didn't budge, and there was no indication they would come around.

She turned shakily and looked to the forest. Whatever it may be, her fate lay before her among those trees. As she approached the tree line, Katniss wasn't sure if she was entering the woods to succumb to the elements where her family felt closest, or whether she was going to try and find galanthus through some miracle. Perhaps she could reach Woodcutter Hawthorne's shack before the storm hit.

She set forth.

 _*~*~_ **4** _~*~*_

The snow was blinding. Wind whipped the drifts almost horizontally, lashing her numb, throbbing cheeks in stinging droves. She hadn't been able to keep track of the trail, and in this weather, Katniss couldn't recognize any of her surroundings.

She could be sure of very little. For certain, there was no galanthus anywhere. She also should have reached Gale's cabin ages ago, as she'd been struggling through the blizzard for hours. Lastly, Katniss knew she couldn't go on much longer.

Her limbs were shaking violently. Entire sections of her hair had been tugged from her braid by the wind and were plastered wetly to her face and neck. Katniss' tattered flannel coat had soaked through rapidly, and she'd lost the feeling in her extremities hours ago.

The blinding whiteness around her was unending. Unseen roots, stones, and branches seemed to leap out of nowhere to trip her up, and it was getting harder and harder to force herself back to her feet each time.

The forest didn't exist, the trees were gone. There was only an unforgiving, impenetrable wall of snow. And she was so, so tired. Katniss had been ravenous earlier, after her paltry meal of grains, but that was long forgotten. Nothing could compete with the exhaustion overwhelming her body.

She'd never escape these woods, never see the end of this storm. Knowing that, what was the point of struggling on? She wanted to be warm again. She wanted to feel loved. But most of all, she just needed to sleep. There had been little hope at the outset, and now nothing sounded better than stopping and resting her weary form.

Staggering to the side, Katniss tried to dodge some branches that tore at her hair. Her foot caught on a twisted root, sending her heavily to the ground once more. This time, she stayed down. Katniss laid there, surrounded by deep piles of snow. Heavy flakes quickly settled on her, obscuring the darkness of her form and reddish coat among the prevailing white. She marveled that she could barely feel the cold now.

She didn't have it in her to get back up. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, Katniss accepted what this meant for her. A single tear dropped onto her icy cheek. The contrast in temperature was so drastic it felt as though it had burned her, and she gave a little sob of fear as she wondered what, if anything, lay ahead.

"Mother," she croaked. "Oh, Prim. Father! Where are you?" But only the wind replied.

Katniss buried her face in her arms and finally let her lids droop, waiting for them to find her.

 _*~*~_ **5** _~*~*_

Gradually, she noticed the howl of the wind die down. Her senses must finally be deserting her then, her body giving in and shutting down. She waited.

But the next thing she was aware of puzzled her greatly. Katniss heard the chirps and trills of mockingjays, clear as day and very close. She dragged her head up just far enough to crack an eyelid.

There was no wind, no storm. Everything was still and beautifully pristine. Mockingjays were everywhere in the trees, perched on each branch. She must have died, then, as this was impossible. Mockingjays were one of the few birds that wintered, but the number present had to include every last one that inhabited these woods.

It was then that she noticed the light filtering eerily through the trees ahead. She glanced back up to the birds, as if for guidance, but they simply watched her, fluttering their wings and cocking their heads in interest.

The silvery rays set the icy branches aglow, and Katniss caught her breath at the beauty of it. Pale beams rippled in the air, undulating in tones of rosy orange and cool gray. Was this Heaven then? Was it truly as simple as walking into the beautiful, mysterious light before her?

When the light continued shining, Katniss forced herself to stand. With great effort, she fought her way onto trembling limbs and inched in its direction. She feared her body would not be strong enough to make it, short as the distance was. To give herself strength and courage, Katniss whispered her father's favorite song. It was a song of the acceptance of death, and her gesture of acquiescence for release and relief.

" _Are you, are you  
Coming to the tree"_

She was getting closer, and the treeline was thinning. The forest was slowly opening to a clearing. Katniss' body ached and screamed in agony, but she knew that respite depended upon reaching the light.

" _Where I told you to run so we'd both be free."_

The mockingjays quickly took up her song, reciting it back to her in powerful, mellifluous notes. Her voice grew louder as they encouraged her on.

" _Strange things did happen here,_  
No stranger would it be  
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree –" 

As she broke past the treeline into the clearing, Katniss squinted into the source of the blinding light, her feet propelling her onward. As her eyes adjusted, she didn't know what to think. Something extraordinary was afoot.

She'd found her father's lake. It was perfectly round, as she'd remembered, and quite frozen. The bare branches of the willow tree loomed darkly on the opposite shore. What she didn't recall having seen before was the glow emanating from the ice, pearlescent patterns of light shifting and glittering in softly muted shades of silver. But the strangest thing of all had to be the group of people standing in the very center of the ice, gathered around a massive fire; one with flames the color of a rosy sunset. The blaze cast a soft orange glow on the planes of their faces.

Faces that were turned in her direction, regarding Katniss with various expressions of curiosity, disdain, annoyance, and amusement. This couldn't be Heaven. Her limbs still felt impossibly heavy and fatigue and weakness still pressed on her. Katniss didn't know who these people were, but they had a fire going, which was a start.

As she tried to force her feet into the steps required to take her onto the surface of the lake, her gaze caught on a pair of impossibly blue eyes just as her body finally gave out, collapsing in a heap on the lake shore.

_*~*~_ **6** _~*~*_

The first thing she grew cognizant of was the frustration and annoyance of the woman speaking. And the volume. As Katniss gradually regained her senses, her mind began to catch distinct phrases, as it honed in on the speaker's ire.

"She's merely a _mortal_ thing. Scarcely worth your time, Twelve!"

Katniss next noted the sensation of a hand gently carding through her hair, sweeping strands from her cheeks and smoothing wisps off her brow. It was cool and soothing. It felt magnificent. Which lead to her realization that the hand's coolness felt so good because she was so _warm_.

"How can I waste my time if I have endless amounts of it to give?" The reply came from nearby, the voice velvety and tinged with amusement.

The smell of baking spices was everywhere: cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves, all the flavors one might hope to taste on a cold winter night, cuddled up by the fire with a plateful of sweets.

"Besides, if any one mortal is deserving of notice, it would have to be this one," the male voice added with appreciative warmth.

She languidly pulled her eyelids apart, blinking to dispel her disorientation. She was curled up, soaking in delicious warmth. As Katniss rose to her elbows, she felt the material blanketing her slip down, and turned to see that she was practically buried in a pile of luxurious furs.

A small, cheery fire crackled nearby, the same soft orange as the one she'd witnessed earlier. Katniss felt no heat emanating from it, and knew it must be enchanted. The cozy warmth that enveloped her, she realized, was simply her own body heat, effectively trapped by the furs draped over her.

"Ah, you've rejoined us," the nearby voice crooned softly.

She turned to identify its owner, and found herself face to face with a breathtakingly arresting young man. He'd apparently been keeping vigil over her, as he was seated right at her side. He had skin as fine and white as porcelain, and soft, kind features. His hair was a halo of pale golden curls, and his cheeks and lips were as colorless as his deep blue eyes were vivid. The corners of his lips were curled in delight and his eyes glittered like a starry winter night. Katniss found she couldn't look away.

A derisive snort off to the side broke her from her singular focus. She glanced up to see at least ten others standing around her on the lake shore. Each person was more stunningly beautiful than the last, in a foreign, otherworldly way, though none had the welcoming demeanor of the man next to her. Katniss found their stares unsettling in their detached perfection, and none looked so hostile as the short woman directly in front of her. As an annoyed glare was directed her way, Katniss felt sure she had found the source of the angry voice.

"Siblings," the young man said, "I think some breathing room for our guest is in order."

Her audience migrated to other spots along the shore, departing with varying looks of interest. None of them seemed bothered by the frigid temperature, or uncomfortable being in the middle of nowhere in the dead of the night.

From the earlier talk of mortals, the enchanted fire, and the unearthly quality of all present, Katniss knew she must be dealing with some sort of magical entities. The woods in this part of the world were purportedly full of enchantments.

And one of them had saved her. She didn't' feel ill at ease. Somehow, she knew she could trust the man at her side.

Once they were relatively alone, he turned back to her. "How are you feeling?" he inquired solicitously.

"Better than I have in some time," she breathed.

"I'm glad. I thought my storm claimed your life unfairly for a moment. I can't imagine why you would brave the elements on this of all nights."

He paused expectantly, waiting for a reply. _His_ storm? Could he be a spirit of the weather? And what an explanation was in order! A life almost lost for wildflowers! Instead of answering, she blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

When it was apparent that nothing from her lips would be forthcoming, he touched a finger to the back of her hand to regain her attention. She gave a little shiver at the cool contact and her gray eyes returned to his.

"What are you called?" His words were the soft whisper of wind on powdery snow.

"Katniss."

He smiled knowingly. " _Sagittaria_. A flower named for the archer constellation, the heavenly body in which the sun transits during my reign. How beautiful."

His words were bewitching, but Katniss didn't completely understand them.

"How are you known?" she asked.

"While my brethren most often call me Twelve, I am formally known as December," he replied. "I don't have a name in the common way, though.

"You may give me one, if you'd like," he offered, with a hopeful lilt to his voice.

Katniss was thoroughly confused. _December?_ At this point, she assumed she was dealing with some form of forest spirits. She had heard fantastical tales of such in her childhood, after all. Glancing around, she noticed there were exactly eleven other individuals at the lake. Could he actually be the corporeal embodiment of the month of December?

He was still waiting in hopeful anticipation. She supposed it was a great honor to name him, whatever he was, but she didn't know all that many names, just the common ones used by fellow villagers. The most whimsical name she'd come across was Gale, and while the man at her side had claimed ownership of a fearsome storm, the tempestuous title didn't seem to fit the concern and kindness she'd seen in his eyes, the caring he'd shown in covering her with furs and staying at her side.

The furs slipped down her shoulders and back as she sat up straighter, accepting the weight of the task. Thinking of all the names she knew, she cast about for the one that sounded the kindest and most generous. Katniss settled upon Peter, surely the sweetest sounding boy's name she knew.

But as she voiced her decision aloud, a chill wind swept past, causing her uncovered shoulders to shake and her teeth to chatter, garbling the end of her pronouncement.

"Peeta it is then," he said happily, his smile as blinding as a winter morning blanketed in fresh snow. He reached over to draw the fur back around her shoulders.

It suited him, she thought.

"I think our meeting and my christening calls for celebration." Peeta's eyes sparkled in excitement. "I hope you'll join me," he added, and suddenly Katniss was surrounded by the biggest holiday feast she'd ever set eyes on.

There was stuffed roasted fowl, hot chestnuts, and mincemeat pie. Cookies, and puddings, and cakes of all kinds. Pots of piping hot chocolate and carafes of mulled wine. Everywhere she looked, there were more delicious treats: marzipan and candied nuts, tangerines and sugar plums.

 _How was this possible?_ She didn't know where to begin.

"Here," he said. "Start with these."

Peeta placed two Christmas rolls in her hands, and her first bite revealed the sweet bread was studded with candied fruits and heartily chopped nuts. It was dense and heavy, more like cake than bread really. Katniss had never tasted anything so delicious, and suspected she'd be echoing that thought when sampling each new dish.

Next he poured a mug of hot chocolate and pushed it in her direction. "Try dipping it."

She did so and moaned at the resulting combination of flavors. Bolstered by his encouragement, Katniss heartily dug into the feast before her.

When she could eat no more, she sighed in contented bliss, nourished by all the delicious treats of December. Peeta watched her with a pleased smile as he crunched on a stick of peppermint candy. She observed him in return.

"Do you _need_ to eat?" she couldn't help wondering aloud.

"No," Peeta admitted, "but I certainly enjoy it. Especially considering the edible delights reserved for the time of my reign."

Yes, Katniss supposed that if she could choose a specific time of year for its food, it would definitely be December.

"Tell me about yourself," he prompted.

She shrugged sleepily and laid back, full and satiated. "There's not much to tell. My stepmother would say I'm ungrateful and insolent. I would say I'm stubborn and good with a bow. Otherwise fairly average. Nothing special."

Peeta leaned back on his elbow beside her. "I would have to disagree."

"I have no friends to speak of. Nor family," she whispered sadly. His expression echoed her remorse, and she wondered at her willingness to talk to him. She was usually a rather reluctant speaker.

"What of you? What are your brothers and sisters like?" Perhaps she could determine exactly what she was dealing with here.

"You are familiar with certain aspects of them already. My brethren and I embody the twelve calendar months. We are responsible for the passage of the year, the changing weather, and overseeing the rites of man associated therein. During our respective reigns, we travel the earth, subtly shifting the season to suit our temperament. When we have ruled for one moon, we step aside for the next of us to continue.

"I am last. I wrap up the work my kin has done in preparation for the next cycle of the new year. Physically, I most closely resemble my two eldest siblings, January and February," he added, nodding in the direction of a male and female standing separate and aloof from the rest.

They were similarly pale, but couldn't be further from him in manner. The female had long, white-blonde hair and a harsh beauty, with no glimmer of inner warmth. The male was tall and powerful looking, but his mien spoke of a nature as brutal as a lengthy winter.

"Though to be honest, I get along with April, July and November much better," he admitted.

As if summoned by his words, the abrasive female from before approached and addressed Peeta. "Are you finally ready to continue?" Her eyes swept over Katniss. "She looks fine now, and _you_ called us all here to perform the Midwinter rite. Let's close the year and be done with it! I have better things to do than stand on a frozen lake listening to March prattle incessantly!"

 _That's right_ , Katniss thought. _It's the winter solstice, the longest night of the year._ Many believed the year began anew after this night. That it was a time of rebirth and new beginnings. Reflecting on her anguish earlier and her position of comfort and safety now, she hoped it was so.

"We'll continue shortly Seven," he assured, before looking back at Katniss. "But first I must know what brought you to the woods this night Katniss, and if you require assistance before you return home." His eyes were bright and encouraging.

Katniss' heart sank. She didn't want to go back. She hadn't felt this welcomed, this happy, since her parents and Prim had been alive. She was comfortable with Peeta, she felt cared for and appreciated, even in the scant time they'd interacted. And she was intrigued by his good humor and friendliness. She wanted to see more of it.

Plus, her task would sound so outlandish. Even to a preternatural entity. Her face burned to the roots of her hair, which caught the attention of July, who stuck around to hear her answer.

"I'm in search of galanthus blooms," she admitted.

Peeta's eyebrows rose in surprise, but his reaction was nothing to the resounding bellows of laughter from July. " _Galanthus!_ What are you, _brainless_?"

Katniss grimaced as July continued, "Four, get over here, you've got to hear this!"

A vigorous man, handsome and alluring with all the virility of spring, was soon at Seven's side. He stooped to pluck a sugar plum from a dish laden with sweets as July spoke.

"Looks like you've got an admirer, because she's looking for galanthus. Guess you'll just have to string her along until spring!"

April flashed her a smile as sparkling and clear as the sky after a sun shower. He offered Katniss the sugar-dusted candy. Once she'd declined, he popped it in his mouth and spoke. "Never fear, little one," he cooed. "They'll be here come spring, I promise."

Sadly, this did nothing to help her. December seemed to sense this, and she felt his cool touch on her hand once more.

"Why do you seek snowdrops?" he asked.

"The ruler of this land has offered a reward in gold for galanthus delivered before yuletide," she explained, as several other months came to see what so amused July and April.

"Foolish mortal! Risking your life out of simple greed! I told you she wasn't worth your time, Twelve!" July crowed.

Peeta glared at the offending woman reproachfully, before looking at Katniss with concern in his eyes. "Do you truly need the gold so badly?"

"It's true I don't have much, but I can still survive. I wouldn't be out tonight, but for my relations demanding a basket of galanthus in exchange for a place by our hearth," Katniss elaborated with no little shame.

Peeta's brow furrowed and his eyes iced over with fury. "Is there no one who takes your well being to heart?

Her resulting silence was his answer.

"We'll get you your galanthus," he swore, determined. And with that he stood up and faced his siblings.

"Before we close this year, I request a final display from each of you, so we can give Katniss the galanthus blooms she needs."

January and February refused outright, their replies hard as ice and sharp as the cold. March looked troubled and April merely shrugged. May glanced slyly to her left to see what June thought, while August, September and October stood pensively. But November smiled.

"Why should we?" July huffed in annoyance.

"Because I know you can't resist the chance to show a 'mere mortal' how powerful you are, Seven," Peeta answered.

"One and Two, how could you hesitate to show your might? You could stretch your legs, exert your powers a little early and give us a preview of the next two moons. Three, a little refresher now may help you decide how fierce or gentle you want your reign to be this year. And Four, can you really resist such a spotlight? She nearly died to see _your_ influence, after all."

Peeta turned to a redheaded woman. "Five, I know you'd love to sneak a little taste of your time into my reign, and Six, think of all those beautiful wildflowers!"

Eight needed little convincing, nodding fondly at both Peeta and Katniss. "Nine and Ten, don't you yearn to see your foliage so soon again? And Eleven," Peeta said with a sly grin, "I know you're always ready for a little mischief!"

As Peeta addressed the eleven months, one by one, Katniss saw his words change them, make them reconsider their stances. He had a way with words, that much was clear, because by the end of his speech, there was not a single objection.

"We'll start at midnight," he decided. "It's not long now."

He returned to her side. "Don't worry Katniss, we'll get you those flowers. I think you'll find the coming hours quite interesting. I'd tell you not to be alarmed, but I have a feeling you're not easily rattled. So instead, I recommend you enjoy the show."

Katniss felt a genuine smile break over her face in gratitude. Peeta's eyes swept her face intently.

"It looked like one of the summer months for a second there," he admitted, gaze settling on her still-smiling lips.

When the time came, January stepped regally onto the ice, the white ermine lining her robes fluttering in the breeze over the lake. When she reached the center, Katniss saw her lips moving, and a cruel wind picked up around them, whipping Katniss' loose hair in all directions. The temperature dropped even further and Katniss huddled into her furs.

A snowstorm kicked up, swirling furiously about them. Peeta leaned over and pulled her to him, wrapping her bundled form in his arms. He didn't add to her warmth, but the snow flurries around them calmed until the surrounding area contained only softly drifting snow, while the blizzard raged beyond.

After a time, Katniss peeked out from under Peeta's arms, and just made out the shape of February striding past onto the lake. Though she couldn't see far enough into the storm to make out his actions, she could tell when his portion of the ceremony was finished, as the wind howled its vehemence that much louder, and the magnitude of the storm intensified.

But still, the flakes danced gently down, settling on their heads and shoulders in cottony puffs as Peeta blanketed them from the storm. Wreathed in his arms, Katniss noticed that while his skin had been cool to begin with, the sections where their bodies met were growing in warmth, heat steadily building between them the longer they were in contact.

She closed her eyes in bliss. Katniss thought she fit perfectly, tucked snugly into Peeta's embrace. It was hard to imagine feeling fear or pain or hunger again, not here.

At length, the winds quieted and the snowfall ceased. Katniss raised her head drowsily, lulled by the safety and warmth she felt in Peeta's arms.

Her eyes widened at the change around her. As the rapidly melting ice began to shift, Three hurried from the lake center, halting from time to time and looking back, as if not convinced the right direction had been taken.

Peeta looked up as well, smiling as he took in her expression of wonder. The ice and snow was dripping off the tree boughs onto the thawing ground, running in rivulets back toward the lake. Every few moments, the progress of the water would be halted as it froze again in its tracks.

"March is a little indecisive," Peeta explained, "about whether to end winter gradually or all at once."

Peeta leaned back, giving her room to get up. She rose to her feet and walked slowly around the lake, taking in the miraculous changes that were being wrought. Her feet alternately slipped on frosty grass and sank into the marshy ground, as the weather continued to vacillate between wintry and vernal.

Eventually, March seemed to settle on more temperate weather, and the chunks of ice left over the lake shrunk rapidly before her eyes.

April brushed past Katniss, drawing his robe from his shoulders, leaving him bare chested. He sent an over exaggerated wink and a devastating smile her way before diving into the brisk water and swimming sleekly to the middle of the lake.

Katniss gazed out over the water, watching the ends of tree branches surrounding the lake grow slowly greener. Further beyond the lake, however, she could see it was still winter, the trees stark white and black, swept by winds.

But around her, the grasses were fresh and green. She could hear the mockingjays perched in the trees at the edge of the clearing, cheerily whistling. She laughed aloud at the wonder of it, spring on Midwinter's night! The sound of her laugh was almost foreign to her ears, so long had it been since she heard it last.

And then, the galanthus came. The snowy blooms sprung up everywhere, dotting the green of the shoreline with a dusting of pure, snowy white.

Katniss turned back to look at Peeta in delight. Who would believe the evening's nightmarish circumstances had brought her here? Alive, comfortable, contented, and witnessing the greatest miracle she'd ever see, surrounded by snowdrop flowers!

Peeta's answering smile was so dazzling she realized she must be grinning at him like a fool, but she couldn't stop. Katniss started toward him,with the vague but insistent impression that she wanted to be as near to him as possible. He nodded to the left though, and Katniss turned to see the basket she'd come with, sitting by the shore right where she'd left it when she collapsed.

Her real purpose returned to her, and after retrieving the basket, she stooped and began to gather.

 

 

 

_*~*~ **end part one** ~*~*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is based off of the slavic fairytale "The Twelve Months," but more closely follows a cartoon adaptation I watched as a child (which can be easily found on youtube by searching 'twelve months cartoon,' and is quite cute).
> 
> Galanthus nivalis are actually early blooming spring flowers and can be found peeking out of the snow in some places in January all the way to May. This would not help Katniss however, because it is still only December. I wanted to use the snowdrop in keeping with the adaptation I remembered, so we'll assume she lives in a part of the world where galanthus doesn't bloom until April.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	2. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter kicked my butt. There were sections of this that were really hard to envision and write, and I hope they don't stand out from the rest in a bad way. This story, like every one I've written, has gotten away from me length-wise. While that can be trying as far as delivering the promised content in the promised time frame, I feel it's a good thing as far as adding depth to the story. Hopefully you'll think so too. There will be one final part (and potentially a brief epilogue) after this one. Enjoy!

 

 

   
 _*~*~_ **1** _~*~*_

April's breeze teased the hair draping Katniss' shoulders as she picked galanthus. All about her, no matter where she put her hands down, they would come up filled with dewy snowdrops. The activity quickly transformed from an urgent task to a joyful pastime. She was reminded of childhood afternoons spent in fields with Prim, picking all the buttercups, dandelions and honeysuckle their little hands could carry, then dumping them all in their mother's waiting lap. But here, in this place, the memory of what she'd lost brought Katniss mirth, not sorrow.

She tucked the flowers snugly into the basket, fitting as many as possible. Then another layer, one upon the other as the basket gradually began to fill. Warm raindrops splashed her back and shoulders as a soft spring shower began, gentle and loving in its mildness.

As she picked, she stole glances back at Peeta from beneath her lashes. He was intriguing. Captivating, almost, but not because he held all the power of December. It was more about the way he interacted with his siblings, the way he'd treated her. Even now, several of the other months sought him out where he stood beneath the willow. She could see him laying a hand encouragingly on the shoulder of little November, rolling his eyes and smiling at July.

Though he must have seen everything there was to see many times over, the expression in his eyes was fresh, as though everything he regarded was seen anew. There was an openness about him, a willingness to engage with others, that Katniss had either lost at some point, or never possessed to begin with. And if anyone should be numbed to the wonders of the world, shouldn't it be one for whom they were a mere exercise, a responsibility every year? And yet, his sense of enjoyment at the seasons' change had been so great as to increase her own.

There was something about Peeta that drew one towards him like a moth to flame. Which was amusing, considering he was the antithesis of heat. But even though he embodied the cold, there was a deeper warmth to him, one of feeling and sentiment. And in that, she thought, he was most like December- the month when men look to the best within themselves. Peeta's brightness outshone all around him.

And the most miraculous thing was, even though he had fulfilled his promise, even now that he'd ensured her impossible task would be fulfilled and he need not concern himself with a mortal any longer, he was looking at her too. At least half the times she glanced up at him, his eyes were slanted in her direction while he spoke with his siblings.

Katniss looked back down to the basket. The flowers were nearing the top. Soon after it was filled, the galanthus before her melted away, all except what she'd picked. She looked up in surprise, only to see April exiting the lake, shaking water from his hair and shoulders as rivulets ran down his arms, grinning like a cad.

And then May appeared. At first, she was nowhere to be seen, but then the fifth month was standing at the bank. Katniss wasn't sure where she'd been hidden, but the redhead, like her brothers and sisters before her, spoke silent words to usher in her reign. Where the galanthus had been, foxgloves started to grow, and daisies followed soon after.

The trees had been lush with leaves for some time now, but Katniss noticed berry bushes along the edge of the treeline. Upon closer inspection, she found ripened raspberries and picked two handfuls.

Though she knew May's durations was limited, and that it would be many months' time before she'd see gorgeous wildflowers again or dragonflies lazily gliding over the gently lapping lakewater, she wanted nothing more than to go back to Peeta, to present him with the berries, humble though they were, as he'd presented her with the feast.

As Katniss approached, the other months surrounding him obligingly drifted away, as if on cue, until only sprightly November joined him in watching her approach, brimming with excitement and a slyly knowing grin. Eventually she too departed his side, giggling and gadding off along the grassy banks, and Peeta alone watched Katniss' approach. Even out of his element, surrounded by warm weather and sunshine, nothing managed to diminish Peeta; he looked lit from within as she reached him.

Standing before him, the berries seemed suddenly pathetic. But they were all she had to offer. Embarrassment stilled her tongue as she stood there awkwardly.

"I see you've got your galanthus, Katniss," he said helpfully.

"That's not all," she answered, firmly deciding to go out on a limb. She set her basket down to reach into her pocket, drawing out one of the handfuls of berries. "For you," she indicated, tipping the pile into his waiting palm.

Peeta looked delighted at the humble little pile of berries resting in his hand, slightly crushed from their journey in her pocket. He sampled one and expressed his approval with a contented hum, closing his eyes to savor the taste. Katniss tasted her own handful. They were sharp and tart, and then oh so sweet. But it was his enjoyment of them that she savored most.

Once they had finished, Peeta swept his hand before her. "We should get you dried off, it looks like April got the best of you with his showers. He's like a robin in the rain whenever water's near," he described good-naturedly, "he can't resist splashing in all the puddles."

"I could kind of see that," Katniss joked wryly.

"Let's get you out of the shade and into the sunshine. Now we just wait as my siblings cycle the seasons back to winter," Peeta explained as they walked out from beneath the tree.

Soon enough, June melted out of the scenery and sat in the shallows of the lake, gazing up at the sky while silently mouthing the necessary words. The weather grew warmer as Peeta led them over to the sunniest embankment. They sank down into the grasses, side by side, and Katniss let the warmth wash over her as wildflowers popped up around them in every shade.

She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing in the sweet-smelling grasses. The May weather had gone a long way toward drying her, and the June heat was indeed finishing the job. Katniss leaned her head to the side and carded her fingers through her wild hair. At length she laid back, soaking in the warmth of the ground beneath her.

Peeta shifted closer to her, and she glanced up at him inquisitively. Encouraged by his permissive smile, she laid her head on his knee and grinned when she heard a happy sigh from above her.

Before long, there was girlish laughter at her side, and Katniss felt something light and feathery brush her cheek. Cracking an eyelid, she saw that little November had joined them, teasing her face with a lacy wild carrot blossom. Katniss smiled softly back, pleased that the girl approved of her presence, but also missing Prim powerfully.

"Peeta says your name is Katniss," November intimated, as if revealing a great secret. "I've never met a girl named for a flower before. I've never met _any_ kind of girl before," she amended shyly.

"I've never met someone named November before," Katniss replied

"Really?" She inquired with great interest. Katniss nodded and added, "It becomes you."

November abruptly departed, but was back in moments with more flowers, setting them around Katniss' face and tucking them beneath her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Katnisss laughed.

"Flowers become you too, so I'm going to make you the prettiest flower bouquet ever. With Katniss right in the middle!"

At this, Peeta threw his head back and laughed, the melodic sound echoing through the trees like sleigh bells

He joined in, weaving dandelions into her dark locks, further adorning her. Katniss closed her eyes in bliss. Peeta's hands back in her hair felt unbelievably good, and their little trio brought her a contented, lighthearted happiness that was so missed, she almost wanted to weep. Her family had that once.

Instead, Katniss breathed deeply, and began to sing the song her mother had sung to her, the song she in turn had sung to comfort Prim at the end. It spoke of the comfort they'd shared when they were all together, the quiet happiness at each other's presence. Now she was feeling it again, elation bubbling through her even while she missed Prim so acutely. She was overwhelmed and had to give her emotions a release, one she could only express in song.

As she began, the ever-present mockingjays hovering at the edge of the meadow-like lake shore fell silent, and Peeta's breath caught at the sound of her voice.

_"Deep in the meadow, under the willow_  
 _A bed of grass, a soft green pillow_  
 _Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes_  
 _And when again they open, the sun will rise_

_Here it's safe, here it's warm_  
 _Here the daisies guard you from every harm_  
 _Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true_  
 _Here is the place where I love you."_

November joined in, hesitating with the lyrics that changed, but picking up the tune from the first verse. She continued arranging flowers around Katniss until the song was finished. By that time, Katniss suspected November and Peeta had made her into a whole field of wildflowers, rather than a simple bouquet.

Katniss reached out to tuck a yellow bloom behind November's ear. "Thank you for singing with me and for making me into a bouquet. Thank you for reminding me of my sister."

November smiled, and bobbed her head, pleased. She left Katniss and Peeta in pursuit of a cabbage moth shortly after.

"You rival all the flowers in this meadow ," Peeta said. Katniss rolled her eyes, embarrassed, and opened her mouth to protest. "You're radiant as the sun," he insisted before she could object, following his words with a smile so genuinely sweet and just slightly shy that she accepted the compliment without further argument.

She was so drawn to him it was hard to look away. And if she wasn't mistaken, it looked like Peeta was leaning down to her just slightly-

"Hey brainless!" a sharp voice cut into their idyll. "This is still for you, so _pay attention!_ "

July strode over to the lake, aggressive as a heat wave and temperamental as a summer storm. After she muttered a brief phrase, an oppressive heat settled over them, muggy and cloying.

They sought refuge in the shaded patch beneath undulating willow osiers, where the temperature was marginally better. Katniss loosely braided her hair in an effort to keep cool, taking care to keep the dandelions Peeta added in place. Looking up at the silvery green leaves, she wondered at how well the verses of the song she'd sung fit this night.

_Deep in the meadow, hidden far away_  
 _A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray_  
 _Forget your woes and let your troubles lay_  
 _And when again it's morning, they'll wash away_

As the heat broke and summer thunder distantly rumbled, Katniss turned to Peeta.

"Why are you doing this for me?"

Peeta regarded her carefully, and gave her the truth.

"Because you're strong and brave, even though you're hurting. Because you're the kind of person who goes out of your way to make November feel special even though she bore a resemblance which so obviously brought you pain. I didn't know you before this night, but I am deeply tied to this forest, and I can sense its knowledge of you.

"You are like an wintering mockingjay. You've withstood the cold for so long, enduring all the hardship life has slung at you, singing defiantly all the while. I knew you were something special when you burst through the trees, bedraggled and exhausted in your red coat, nevertheless charging toward your fate with a song on your lips.

"Because you're beautiful for the effort you make. For the peace you seek," he ended on a whisper.

Katniss had to turn away from him, looking out over the lake as she was overcome by his words. She'd had no idea he saw her like that, _thought_ of her like that. Certainly, he was knowing and mysterious, as an otherworldly being, but how could he look at a typical mortal and see... _that_.

As if in explanation, he spoke softly, "I have an eye for beauty."

She wanted to respond, to tell him that it must be because he was such a thing of amazement himself, even amongst his other siblings. He'd shown her kindness and warmth she hadn't received since her family lived, long after she'd given up on expecting such things. He stood out amongst the others like a beacon, a glimpse of hopeful brightness on the horizon after a long, dark night of anxiously awaiting the light of dawn. But she felt she couldn't, because she didn't have the right words. Surely she couldn't have anything grand enough for the twelfth month of the year.

He accepted her silence without question, and she was ashamed she'd failed to verbally reciprocate his esteem of her, for she truly felt an answering devotion to him.

July's work was finished soon after, and pleased to have Katniss' attention, she strutted away from the lake. When August began, Peeta turned back to Katniss.

"Autumn approaches, and then I follow. We recreate all the months here for you, not to merely show you our might, but because when you're in our presence, you have departed from the time in which you live. It's the reason we do not regularly interact with humans. Our lives follow a different progression and time frame than your own mortal existence, and one cannot experience both at the same time. A human life can only deviate from its rhythm in this way twice, before losing its place in the temporal world of changing seasons and numbered years. The third occasion it stands outside time, it must depart it forever, or die upon its return. You must enter your time the way you came in, so you will need to leave us after I reclaim my reign."

Katniss lowered her head, resting it in her arms as she sat with knees bent before her. The prospect filled her with profound sadness. She didn't want to lose Peeta. She'd only just met him. But leave she must, and she'd have to accept it, sooner or later.

At least they still had a little longer. She could fill the time with learning all she could about him. Katniss would later realize that though they talked at length, it felt like mere moments.

Throughout the end of summer they revealed small details about themselves, and in early fall Peeta told her about the many celebrations that took place during his reign the world over. Katniss had no idea there were so many, or that they could be so varied, and wished she could see them.

As September blustered through, he told her about unreliable shifts in weather when his siblings would fight; Indian summers and balmy winter days. Peeta described the things he liked about shaping the winter, but also admitted to feeling lonely with only his brothers and sisters for company.

The trees around them burst into brilliant colors as the leaves turned. Katniss told him about her family- what they were like, their funniest stories, and her saddest. She let herself feel a little anger that she was alone without them, and it felt good. When she cried, he traced the tracks of her tears with his fingers, sweeping the drops off her face gently. As his fingers trailed along her cheeks, she shivered, but Katniss was unsure if it was from the coolness of his fingers or the answering heat that blossomed in the wake of his touch. Whichever it was, she had never felt such a thing before him.

By now the spirited winds of October had begun, and the dandelions in her hair had gone to seed. The gusty bursts of wind stirred the fluffy orbs and the little florets broke free, sailing away in the breeze to join the vivid reds, oranges, and yellows of the swirling foliage. One got caught in a whorl of Peeta's hair.

Katniss reached up to remove the dandelion seed from his hair, the curl in question springing back as the wispy floret was released from the strands. She glanced from her task to his eyes, and saw Peeta was looking at her intently, his gaze flitting back and forth as he took her in. As she started to lower her hand, Peeta raised his, trailing the cool pads of his fingers across her jawline, her skin flushing in the response. With the slightest pressure from his fingers, he drew her mouth to his for a whisper of a kiss. The chill of his lips tingled, cool and smooth, as he barely grazed her own. Despite the mere hint of contact, Katniss had never felt a touch so intensely in her life.

When they separated seconds later, Katniss could scarcely breathe and Peeta let out a shaky exhalation. Her lips burned with sensation. She wanted to feel the cool of his lips against her own again. She shivered at the thought.

Dipping her eyelids, Katniss leaned back toward him and Peeta obliged her, meeting her mouth with his own. This kiss was more fervent; they sought to imprint the feel of their mouths in each of their memories. Katniss tucked the curl back behind his ear, and Peeta clasped his fingers around her small wrist, holding it at the side of his head as if to keep her there.

She wasn't moving away anytime soon. She could feel a warmth building between them at each place they touched. In response, Katniss threaded her fingers further into Peeta's supple curls, dragging the locks between the gaps in her fingers again and again.

Peeta groaned in appreciation and their kiss deepened, his mouth slanting wider over her own. His skin was no longer cool to the touch, but feverish against hers. Soon, Katniss was pressing herself into him further, seeking more contact, more heat, and tugging at his lips with urgency. She heard a whimper she suspected was her own as she opened her mouth to him. Peeta's hand swooped over to cradle the back of her neck, steadying her against him as his lips kneaded at her own.

Katniss was not the first to move away. When they finally did break apart, it was with rapidly rising chests and pouding hearts. She felt exhilarated and alive, like when she hunted.

Peeta was visibly affected, too. Where he'd been pale and nearly colorless before, Katniss' color had bled into him, adding a rosy tint to his now flushed cheeks. His lips were reddened, turned a deep pink by their activity. They were wet and warm, and it was as if she had begun to thaw him, heating him up like a spark. They stared at each other, his warmed breath leaving his lips in cloudy puffs, condensing in the cool autumn air. Peeta leaned his forehead against hers. "Katniss..."

"Your eyes are the color of a starry December night," she blurted, awed.

"And yours are a December morning," he chuckled, before fixing her with a sobering look.

"You don't understand the effect you have" Peeta told her earnestly. "Since you came to this lake, I haven't been able to look away. But there can be no arrangement between you and me. You're firmly in the land of living, mortal things, and that's a world I can't follow you to."

Katniss knew he was right, and their accord would only make her approaching departure more difficult, but she couldn't resist. She pulled him back to her, and their subsequent kiss was a heated, frenzied meeting.

Too soon, they were interrupted by the rattle of dead leaves on shaking branches, and they looked up to see November laughing down at them.

"It's my turn now," she said proudly, and Katniss looked at Peeta sadly, feeling a knot of dread settle in her stomach. The night was almost over; dawn and December would soon arrive. Peeta brought one of the furs from before over to her, and bundled it around her as November began.

Once November had sung a brief invocation from her place in the tree, the last of the leaves began to fall from the woods lining the lake's clearing. Patches of ice began to form on the lake.

The other months approached, and Katniss stood up to bid them farewell. Peeta's two winter siblings simply nodded to her, but March shook her hand, and April gave her a showy kiss on the cheek. May and June smiled secretly as they clasped her shoulder.

July came to stand by Peeta and looked up at him expectantly. He sighed sadly, and addressed Katniss. "Mortals must not know all the workings of their world, Katniss, or the opportunity to weave in the miraculous diminishes," he explained.

"Twelve means to say that you better not tell anyone about what you've seen, or how you obtained the galanthus. Most mortals are not like you, and their lust for power knows no fear. Many would seek to seize abilities such as ours, if they could. We do not want to deal with power-hungry humans. Our impact on your world should remain restricted to the changing of the seasons," July insisted

Katniss nodded in understanding. She would not tell. "I promise not to speak of what I've witnessed here."

"Neither should you seek us out at whim," April added gently. "For eventually it would draw attention, and you will not be able to find your way back to us without aid." He handed her the basket of galanthus, apology in his eyes.

Katniss knew what April meant. She should not go searching for Peeta simply because she wanted to be near him.

July ruffled her hair fondly and August, September and October each bobbed a bow. Finally, November hopped down from her branch and threw her arms around Katniss in a tight hug. Once they'd separated, Katniss raised her eyes to Peeta, embarrassed to feel another tear escape the confines of her lower lids.

Peeta reached his hand out to her and motioned his head to the now-frozen lake. "Come on," he said gently. Keeping the fur carefully wrapped around her shoulders against the cold, she went with him.

Hands clasped together, one cool and one hot, but warm where they were joined, they walked over the ice to the center of the round body of water.

"I always think of creating December as a little like painting on a canvas. A person may think the landscape is drab or just white, but it's so much more than that. Layers upon layers of color," He raised their joined hands, whispering words of his own to start the change, and he helped her paint December onto the forest. Flashes of blue crackled through the ice beneath their feet as the lake froze further. Snow fell heavily but briefly, piling upon the ground in silvery-shadowed hues. He waved their hands toward the sky as the sun came up, and the most beautiful rosy-peach shade of orange suffused the dispersing bluish-gray veil of the morning. The spindly clouds sitting low on the horizon blazed forth a fiery, brilliant gold, announcing the sun's approach. Next he splayed his fingers between hers, and a coat of ice encased the branches of the trees, glinting purple, goldenrod, and azure in the light of the morning.

Katniss had never witnessed anything so breathtaking, let alone had a part in creating it. The memory would be another treasured gift. Looking over his work for a moment, Peeta gave a little nod of approval, before turning to her once more. "I think that's the best one yet," he said with a little wink.

Her delighted laughter broke the stillness of the moment, and she could tell he was pleased to cheer her up before their parting. When silence reigned once more, Peeta looked deeply into her eyes, and placed something small and round into the palm of her hand.

"I know that you are largely alone in your world, and I wish I could change that. I fear there will be a repeat of whatever circumstances brought you hungry and near-frozen to our lake."

There was an understanding in his expression. He knew that there was practically nothing for her to return to, and she saw an answering loneliness in his own eyes, stark and barren. "The most I can offer you is my friendship, and the knowledge that you have my lasting regard. Besides that, there is only this I can give you," he said regretfully.

Katniss looked down to see a pale pearl resting in the crux of her darker palm, the same shade as Peeta's hair, but gleaming with a host of muted colors, like she'd just seen threading through the palette of Peeta's December. Its iridescence was like mother of pearl, and Katniss knew this was no ordinary object.

"I give you a pearl, and not some other gem, because unlike polished stones, a pearl is a mortal animal's legacy to the passage of time. This pearl was created by a living thing, with one lifetime, and stands testament to the seasons and months it witnessed. Time was sealed into each layer of nacre, as it created something beautiful out of that which harmed it.

"I would say it fits us, a gift from time to the most exquisite beauty hardship has shaped," he whispered.

Katniss nodded her agreement, and reached out to clasp his hand tightly in her own, in the hopes of conveying what his gift meant to her.

"Should you need me, for any reason whatsoever, you need only hold the pearl in your palm and say,

_Stop all the clocks, halt the sun here._

_Call forth the twelve months of the year._

_Pass through the dead of winter bleak,_

_Race through spring for the month I seek._

_Slip through summer, and sneak by fall,_

_Bring December to heed my call!_

Do this, and I will be at your side. But it can only be used once," he said regretfully.

"Thank you," Katniss whispered, awed.

"I know that I should hope you never need to use it, and I do. But I know that if I do see you again, it will be the brightest spot in the eternity my brethren and I know," he confessed.

"You should go now," Peeta said, heartbroken. But before she could take a step, he tangled his fingers back through hers and pressed a fervent kiss to her hand before releasing it for the final time. The words of the lullaby returned to her, as they had many times this night:

" _Here is the place where I love you."_

Forcing back her despair, Katniss made herself turn and move off the ice, in the opposite direction of the twelve months. Walking away from Peeta felt completely wrong, and she looked back at him once more. He stood, watching her leave, and she ached with each subsequent step, gripping the basket handle tightly in grief.

The sun heralding the first day after the solstice broke over the horizon as she disappeared into the trees.

 _*~*~_ **2** _~*~*_

As soon as Katniss had entered the treeline, the fur he'd wrapped around her transformed into a long winter coat of white fur. When the sunlight hit the individual strands, she could see all the colors in Peeta's pearl, all the tones and hues they'd painted onto the sky and forest.

She closed her eyes in a failed attempt to block it out. How could she bear seeing these reminders of the past night regularly? She would have to manage somehow, the objects were as precious to her as the memories were painful.

By the time she got home, her exhaustion was so great she could barely stand. Pounding on the door so early proved effective, as it woke Clove, forcing her to admit Katniss to put an end to the racket.

Katniss sleepily set the basket on the table and trudged up the ladder to her little loft room without a word about the source of the miraculous flowers.

Clove, shocked at her success and survival after that terrible blizzard, let her go. As Katniss ascended the ladder, her stepsister was just beginning to inspect the flowers, the greed and glee transforming her features. Katniss carefully hung her coat on a peg in the wall and then lay down, eagerly succumbing to sleep.

While Katniss and Merah slept, Clove tried on each of her dresses, determining which was the finest for a trip to the palace. When she could wait no longer, she shook Merah awake and showed her the galanthus.

"We should wake her and ask her where she got them," Clove said, imagining boasting about 'their' find to all who would listen in the palace.

But her mother had different ideas. "Don't be a fool! If we wake her, she may want to come with us and then she could get her hands on a portion of the gold. Especially if they start asking questions and find out that _she's_ the one who got the flowers.

"We should leave while she sleeps," Merah insisted further. "The sooner the better. Go borrow that slob Abernathy's mule and cart. Give the drunkard a few coins and he'll let you. We'll go to the palace in style!"

Once she had returned with mule and cart from the nearby farmhouse, and Merah was still getting ready, Clove quietly climbed up the ladder to peek into Katniss' room. Her eyes fell on the magnificent coat, and she knew it would be just the thing to wear to the palace. It wouldn't suit Katniss at all, she'd probably just ruin it.

Pulling it on, she met Merah at the door, where the woman admired the white fur enviously. Covering the basket with a cloth to hide its contents, they set off, hoping to reach Snow's Palace by evening.

 _*~*~_ **3** _~*~*_

When Katniss next woke up, it was late afternoon. It was cold enough that frost latticed her loft window, and the spindly threads of ice shone gold in the late afternoon. Katniss was reminded of Peeta's eyelashes, and instantly the impossible events of the last night came rushing back.

Wondering if she had perhaps dreamed everything, she looked for the white coat. It was gone. But her tattered red flannel coat would have been hanging in its place, and it wasn't. She descended the stairs to check for the galanthus blooms, but the table was also empty, and Clove and Merah were nowhere to be found.

Then Katniss remembered the pearl, the most precious of the items she'd taken from the lake, and reached into her pocket, hoping against hope that it was there and that she had not dreamed her encounter. Her fingers touched the cool, round surface, and Katniss knew her memories were real. She had been saved last night. _Peeta_ was real. She drew the orb out to look at it.

It still shimmered iridescent, emitting a soft glow as pastel jewel-tones gleamed from within. Its enchantment was obvious, and considering the absence of her white fur and the presence of Clove's sturdy brown coat by the door, she was glad it had been in her pocket. She'd have to be careful to make sure no one saw it. There would be questions about what power it held, and Katniss couldn't betray the Twelve Months' trust like that. That, and this pearl was her last connection to Peeta.

She brought it to her lips, giving it a small peck, and running the smooth surface along her chapped lips, as if pressing a chaste kiss to the lips of the giver himself. It hurt to think that she could only see him once more. Time passed differently for him than it did her, and he traversed the world constantly. Would he remember her a few years hence?

She wondered how long it would take Peeta to forget her. The idea that he might was unbearable, and almost had her opening her mouth to speak the incantation, but she stopped. Peeta gave her this pearl for emergencies. She had to be practical, she should save it for when she truly needed it. And who knew how long that may be? Perhaps she'd never _need_ it, but not knowing the future, she'd hold onto it forever just in case. Her connection to the wintry boy would sit in her pocket, wasted as she moved through life, forcing the regular motions of living.

Katniss couldn't dwell on this, couldn't endlessly wonder about the best course of action. She had to look to the living world and pay attention to her mortal needs. But she also didn't want to lose her connection to Peeta. He reminded her of how she might have been, had life been gentler and she'd not learned long ago to be wary and distrustful of everything, scoffing at the appearance of good fortune and counting down to the moment it went sour. Peeta made her wonder what she would have been like, had she not turned away from the goodness in life in suspicion, averted her eyes from the sun. She felt closer to that supposedly lost part of herself around him.

Perhaps the woods would help her. She'd always done her best thinking there, surrounded by her father's trees. Tucking the pearl back into her pocket, Katniss took up her bow and quiver and set out to find some food and peace of mind. She just hoped she'd be able to ignore the fact that in her heart, they were Peeta's woods now, too.

 _*~*~_ **4** _~*~*_

Princess Coin didn't bother to knock as she turned the jewel-encrusted handle of the door to the greenhouse, centrally located in the Snow Palace. This was her grandfather's crystalline sanctuary, but she had no qualms intruding. He never denied her anything. She walked silently down rows upon rows of all manner of rose species. Encased in satin slippers sewn with seed pearl accents, (a far too common adornment for anything but house slippers), her feet didn't make a sound.

She found him tending some flowerless stalks in the center of his gilded glass structure, its beveled panes and lush garden giving the scene a fairy-like quality, and inspiring the title, 'the Ice Palace,' for his retreat.

"Grandfather, they've done it!" Coin excitedly exclaimed.

The king's shoulders tensed, his hackles raised to be so interrupted.

"You know I don't like to be disturbed in here, Coin," he said with a barely repressed snarl. "What is so urgent that it must interrupt my grafting?"

Coin continued on, quite unperturbed about her guardian's ire. "Snowdrops! Peasants from the village by the Seam have brought some. But they only brought a basketful, and I need many times more than that!" she whined. "You must go and make them get some more, as soon as possible! I said I want these halls _filled_ ," she said with a temperamental stomp of her slippered foot.

Now she had Snow's attention. "Someone actually _brought_ galanthus? Real galanthus?" Unlike his insipid heir, Snow knew that powers beyond man must be at hand to bring a basketful of flowers to his palace in December.

King Coriolanus had long been seeking ways to increase the scope of his power. He had begun a campaign long ago of seeking out any suspicious activity, and monitoring his subjects, looking for just such an otherworldly occurrence in the hopes that he could harness such a power for his own use. His efforts had started a kingdom-wide witch hunt, and scores of men and women, accused of performing miraculous healings, possessing psychic abilities, or having preternatural knowledge had been seized and brought to the palace. All had been tortured for more information, but none had yielded anything substantial. His subjects thought he was rooting out dangerous fiends, but he was actually combing the land for mystic power.

"Yes, but that's not the point!" Coin said moodily. "The point is they didn't bring _enough_."

Snow quickly walked past the princess and out of the Ice Palace, seeking the flowers in question. Coin followed, tripping behind his clipped pace in her voluminous gown.

He found them in one of the smaller halls, off to the side of his throne room. Minister Heavensbee was there, and servants were transferring the blooms to multiple vases as Plutarch counted out gold coins in order to fill the basket. The two female peasants watched the gold like dogs watch soup bones.

"How did you come to obtain galanthus!" he demanded in a commanding voice, and the female peasants cowered when they realized they were in the presence of the king.

"W-we got them from the forest in our village," Clove stammered. "We just found some and picked them, your majesty!"

Snow turned his yellow eyes on the older woman, as if daring her to agree with or deny her daughter's claims.

"Indeed your majesty, they were just there in the snow, in a little patch far in the woods," Merah affirmed.

"What you are saying," Snow said, tasting his words slowly, "is impossible. You have one final chance. How did you get these flowers?"

Merah looked as though she'd be ill. "Truly, your highness, we found them in the woods," she said nervously.

Snow glanced out the window at the waning daylight. "Perhaps a night in the dungeon will inspire some honesty. Then we can agree not to lie to each other."

Merah and Clove balked as their dreams of fabulous fortune quickly mutated into the very real fear that they might never see the sun again. They knew of all the country folk- midwives, apothecaries, and fortune tellers, that had suddenly disappeared, likely into that very dungeon.

"Wait! We'll tell you!" Merah screeched in terror. "We didn't get the flowers at all! They were brought to us, by my stepdaughter!"

Snow waited silently for more.

"She's a dark, backwards thing- sullen and secretive. She disappears into the forest for hours at a time, and she comes out with all sorts of plants and animals to use for her macabre purposes."

While parts of her description of Katniss' actions were technically true, Clove understood Merah's intention, presenting Katniss as a witch to save their own skins. She took up the story. "We have no clue what it is she does there, but she's obsessed with the spirits of the dead. I know she thinks she can commune with them in that forest! When she heard about the reward for galanthus, she disappeared into the fiercest snowstorm of the year, and she was gone all night! She should have died, but she miraculously returned this morning, healthy as can be, and looking better than she has in months!"

Merah continued further. "She must have used magics to get the flowers, but she didn't tell us that! When we saw she got the galanthus, we brought them as fast as we could, knowing that you wanted them right away," Merah said obsequiously, turning to Coin in the hopes that her pleading tone would get her farther with the person who was openly admiring the flowers.

Coin was thoroughly unconcerned with the women's plight, however. "Can't this girl get more? Why did she pick so few?" she inquired angrily. "I need more, many more! And I better get them, or you shall be punished!"

But Snow was considering them thoughtfully. It was obvious they had brought the flowers for gold alone, and not for the pleasure of their monarchs, but he had seen true puzzlement in the women's descriptions of how their the girl had not only survived the storm alive, but in better health than before, and with a basket of spring flowers. This was certainly worth further investigation. Immediately.

"In light of your confession, you will not be spending the night in the dungeon, but on a coach back to your home," he instructed. "When you get there, you will make your stepdaughter go out for more galanthus. I must see with my own eyes how these flowers are obtained. I shall travel to my hunting lodge. It's close enough to the Seam. When she plans to go, you must send word, and my fastest riders will accompany me to her location. One of you must follow her into this forest, and lead the rest of us there without her knowledge. We will catch her in the process of whatever unnatural arts she practices. You will do this, or you will be executed," Snow said calmly.

Trembling in fear, Merah and Clove nodded in understanding. "Well then, you have a coach to catch. And I have a journey to prepare for. Plutarch, you're in charge of things while I'm away," the king rumbled.

The women turned to go, shaking and nervous, but Snow stopped them. "Don't forget your gold," he sneered with the smile of a serpent. "You came all this way after all. And who knows how long you'll have to enjoy it?"

And with that, King Coriolanus strode away, Coin at this heels, insisting she come along to direct the picking of the snowdrops, to ensure the proper amount was obtained.

 _*~*~_ **5** _~*~*_

Katniss had been surprised to spend an entire day without Merah or Clove's presence, but she had certainly enjoyed it. Upon returning from the forest, she fixed herself a meal with the rabbit she'd caught. She'd attributed her luck in bagging anything but a squirrel in this sparse winter to the new sense she had of the woods. She felt connected to them somehow, and her sense of contentment from the night before had continued into her hunting trip. She had been less worried about catching game, and more attuned her surroundings than ever before. It had paid off.

The rabbit had been delicious. Once finished with her meal, she'd set to tearing an old washrag into strips and weaving them into a small cloth braid. She sewed a small, makeshift pouch out of a scrap of tanned hide Merah had missed when leaving on her first trip to town. Katniss had fashioned them together into a little bracelet pouch to house her pearl. She wanted it at hand for emergencies, but mostly she wanted to keep it close to her at all times, somewhere she couldn't help but keep an eye on it.

Once that was completed, she banked the fire and turned in. Katniss climbed between the sheets and pressed the pearl to her lips before tucking it safely into its pouch and drifting off, thoughts of the giver following her into slumber.

The next morning, things were back to normal. Merah and Clove had returned sometime before the dawn, and they had climbed up to her room before even removing their coats. Katniss was rudely awoken with lots of yelling and even a nasty yank to her braid from Clove.

The first time they requested more galanthus flowers, she refused. Despite the vicious threats and promise of suffering Merah hurled at her, Katniss gave the same answer the second and third time as well. The more they asked, panic in their voices and fear in their eyes, the more they divulged, little by little.

By noontime, Merah and Clove were a wreck.

"Katniss, King Coriolanus will _kill_ us if you don't get more flowers! You're just going to sit back and let us die? He'll come after you, next! It's so little to ask, just another basket of snowdrops! How could you do this to us, your family?" Merah pleaded.

"Snow wanted to come here and see them growing himself, you know," Clove added. "But we promised him you'd bring them because we knew you wouldn't like it if the whole army invaded your woods," she lied. "We were thinking of _you_ , and if you don't deliver, he _will_ come here."

Katniss stewed. She hated Clove and Merah, that much was certain. But she didn't want them to die. And her hatred for them was nothing compared to her hatred for King Snow, who had ruined the lives of healers all over the kingdom of Panem. Those that hadn't been seized in the name of the crown for suspected witchcraft had had to give up their practices. Those who practiced in secret, trying to help others in the community, were often reported to the king by petty neighbors.

Sicknesses went untreated and injuries were poorly healed. Infant and mother mortality rates skyrocketed when midwives also became suspect. Her mother, a skilled healer, had been forced to stop practicing, shunned by the whole village. No one would do business with her family, and her mother lost her spirit. Katniss' father had tried to support them off the bounty of the forest exclusively, but it hadn't been enough. They'd fallen on hard times, and her mother's depression worsened. When they'd fallen ill, their depleted stores of medicines hadn't been enough. It had been too risky to be seen doing anything but hunting in the forest, and they'd gathered very little healing materials for the winter. Her mother passed away quickly after falling ill.

Katniss had tried to find the necessary plants in the forest to help them. but winter had been approaching and nearly everything was dead. She didn't know all the alternative options her mother would have. Her father, exhausted from trying to keep the family going, fell ill next. Then Prim. No one came to help them. Everything Katniss tried didn't work. Prim was so young, the illness took her in a week. Her father recovered eventually, but he was a broken man. Come spring, he had married Merah, and Katniss had to wonder if he was trying to run from the memory of the life he lost, or if perhaps he was trying to distance them from it for Katniss' sake, so that if dire straits returned, their neighbors wouldn't be too fearful to help them. A 'respectable' wife may have been his solution, she'd never know.

But if anything, his spirits had sunk after his second wedding, and the illness her father survived had forever weakened him to others. In a few short months, he had left her, too. Katniss couldn't help but blame Snow's brutal inquisition and elimination of healers for the misfortune. Ever since, she'd gathered plants despite the risk of being falsely accused for witchcraft. The lack of healing materials had been what killed her family.

She certainly didn't want to do anything that would please King Snow. But she wouldn't be complicit to his murdering more subjects, which meant she had to get galanthus flowers to save Merah and Clove's lives.

The one bright spot was that she'd see Peeta sooner than she'd ever expected, because she'd need to use the pearl to request another advancement of the year. July would be incensed. She hoped Peeta wouldn't think her ungrateful or foolish for seeking the flowers again so soon.

Though she was happy at the prospect of seeing him, she was saddened too, for it would be the last time and she had hoped to spare the treasured visit for as long as possible. After this, all the years of her life would be without his presence. But there was no alternative.

"Alright, I'll get you some galanthus. But I'll do it alone. Expect me back tomorrow morning. Now give me my coat," Katniss said, glaring at Clove, who still wore the white fur.

"You can use mine. You're just going to the forest, you wouldn't want to ruin this one," Clove hedged. Katniss snarled, but Merah broke in.

"Get going, our lives are on the line here, and you're worried about your _coat_?! You'll get it when we get the galanthus!"

Katniss was furious. She wanted to show her appreciation for the coat by wearing it to the lake when she saw Peeta, but it wasn't worth incurring Merah's wrath. The woman seemed on edge and volatile, and Katniss was surprised she hadn't lashed out yet. Knowing how duplicitous the two were, she'd just have to be sure to hold the galanthus over their heads until Clove returned it.

Katniss laced up her boots and put Clove's brown coat on. After wrapping up some leftover rabbit meat and slinging her bow and quiver over her shoulder, she left the house, noting that it was beginning to snow as she walked in the direction of the woods.

Merah turned to Clove. " _Follow_ her, and make sure she doesn't see you! It's a good thing she didn't fight us on the coat, because it will help you blend in with all the snow. I'm going to Abernathy's to use his jabberjay. I'll be there with the king and his troops as soon as I can. _Don't_ lose her or it's both our necks!"

And with that, Merah rushed out of the house. Clove followed after, but turned in the direction Katniss had taken, careful to make sure she waited until Katniss was out of sight and couldn't see her. Clove planned on following her footprints in the snow, but the falling flakes were worrisome. If it took a while for the king to reach them, Merah would have difficulty finding the footprint trail under a fresh snowfall.

As she passed the old apple tree, Clove yanked out the knife she'd thrown into the trunk just two days ago. She'd have to mark some trees just in case.

 _*~*~_ **6** _~*~*_

Tired of banging on the rickety farmhouse door, Merah eventually just forced it open. The stench she was greeted with was awful, but at least the man she sought was close at hand.

After shouting at Haymitch Abernathy to awaken with no response, she resorted to kicking his chair out from under him.

He came to, snarling like a beast as he crashed to the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" Haymitch roared, cussing a blue streak.

"You fell out of your chair."

"S'that so?" he mused suspiciously. Merah ignored his question. "I need to use your jabberjay to send a message. I'll pay."

"Oh yeah? Well where's the cart and mule I loaned you yesterday? I'm not made of money here, _darlin_ '," he sneered.

Merah had forgotten about the cart and animal they'd hired from Haymitch to get to the palace, far too concerned with staying alive on their coach ride home. "You'll get your cart! I need your jabberjay, and I'm in a hurry!" she blustered, throwing down three of the gold coins Prime Minister Heavensbee had given her on the table.

Haymitch's eyes widened. That was real gold. That was a lot of drinks. Plus, he needed to repair his farm, he'd let it fall to ruin to pay for his booze, but he knew he needed to start raising geese and chickens again if he wanted to continue to purchase alcohol. His used to be the best poultry farm in the Seam, and loaning out his jabberjay occasionally these days wasn't cutting it.

"Alright, alright, keep yer shirt on, I'll get it." When he returned, he refused to leave while she conveyed the message. When he heard exactly which hunting lodge she wanted the trained bird to deliver the message to, the source of the gold on his table suddenly made sense, but not the reason for it.

When the bird flew off, Merah turned to leave, and Haymitch grabbed his coat, following her out.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"Following you," he said.

"What?!" Merah spluttered. "You'd better turn right back around! I don't need your slovenly hide skulking about! This is important!"

"So's my farm, darlin,' and I ain't leaving your side 'til I get my mule and cart back, or see some more of that gold," he growled.

Powerless to stop him, Merah turned angrily back to the path that led to their cottage, to anxiously await King Snow's arrival.

 

 

 

  
_*~*~_ **End Part Two** _~*~*_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens(always wanted to say/type that)! I will try as hard as I can to have the conclusion up in a few weeks. Until then I'll be working on a picture for A Long Line of Bread and Your Peeta is Showing's Fandom Charity Drive participation gift package. (An event ending 12/31 that you should definitely look into! Search “fandom charity drive” on tumblr!)
> 
> Was it clear to everyone who the months were? I hope so, I put some tiny and not-so-tiny clues in there, depending on the month/district tribute.
> 
> For those that reviewed, followed, and favorited this story – you are wonderful, you made my week!For EVERYONE that has read this far, thank you so much! For anyone getting notifications on this story, I do want to alert you that I may go back and change little things when I post the third part, if there's a detail I forgot or discrepancy I find when looking at the completed project. I've never done a publicly submitted WIP, and I'm still getting used to not having all my ducks in a row before posting :P
> 
> Have a happy holiday all, and if you want to read a REALLY beautiful everlark fairytale, one of the best reads the whole fandom has to offer, head over to Mejhiren's cozy, wintry “When the Moon Fell in Love with the Sun” (if you somehow have not stumbled upon this gem yet), and be sure to leave a review! You will not regret it!


	3. Geese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I want to say a huge thanks to everyone who has read, reviewd, or followed/favorited this story. Thank you for your patience in waiting for the third installment, your encouragement was a huge factor in getting this done! And to my beta, The RPGenius, I owe a huge debt of gratitude, for once again slogging through another long chapter at the drop of a hat!
> 
> And I can't go without mentioning Mejhiren, whose works were a major inspiration to the idea and execution for this little fic. If you haven't read every vividly imagined and beautifully written story of hers, you should. Her kind words and encouragement while writing this did wonders. :)
> 
> Without further ado...

 

*~*~ **1** ~*~*

 

Katniss was torn. She couldn't get through the snow fast enough, eager to return to that place of safety, where she'd felt a sense of belonging every time Peeta's eyes landed on her. At the same time, Katniss dreaded what lay ahead. She was on a fool's errand yet again. Surely Peeta would think her greedy and foolish for summoning him so soon, merely to beg his indulgence with more galanthus. She tried to plan her words, the explanation that she could never be as callous with human life as Clove and Merah had been with hers.

 

There was no ignoring that this would be the last time she saw Peeta. The thought brought fresh, sharp pain to her chest, pain that deepened at the thought that he may think ill of her.

 

The woods were silent, a contrast to the crunch of snow underfoot. She felt as though the trees witnessed her progress with interest. The storm had made the forest impossible to navigate the night of the solstice, and her discovery of the lake had been purely chance. Katniss had made it home the next morning, but she was by no means familiar with the lake's location.

Deep into the forest, Katniss paused at length, hesitant. She wasn't remotely sure she was heading in the correct direction. As her gaze panned the trees before her, trying to discern the lay of the land, she clasped the pouch at her wrist in worry. What if she couldn't find the lake again? Should she just use the pearl here? With the way he'd described it, Katniss assumed Peeta would appear wherever the incantation was spoken. But she wanted to meet him at the lake, a place which already held great meaning for her, so she wandered further, not willing to give up. But after another hour of searching in vain, Katniss felt no closer to her destination.

 

She’d delayed as long as she thought prudent. Removing her gloves, she fumbled with the clasp on her wrist pouch. Her fingers were already chilled by the time she pulled the pearl from its little pocket. With a disappointed sigh and sense of finality, she regarded the small shimmering orb in her cupped hands. She might as well do it now.

 

Katniss drew it closer, watching the play of colors reflecting on the lines of her palms. She recalled the words Peeta had spoken, and blew on her hands to warm them before starting.

 

But the words caught in her throat before she'd given them voice, for as soon as her breath washed warmly over the pearl, the shifting colors swirled and faded until it had become transparent. Thinking she was seeing things, Katniss blinked, but when she re-opened her eyes, the pearl had changed yet again. She could see little trees in it, clustered together like the ones just to the left.

 

 _Exactly_ like the ones on her left, she realized. Once she'd swiveled to face that direction, the pearl shifted back to its original, glinting opacity. Katniss supposed she shouldn't be _that_ surprised that the pearl was seemingly leading her. Peeta had enchanted it after all, and she'd never met anyone more accommodating or attentive in her short life. The sign of his influence filled her with warmth. Tucking the pearl safely back into its snug pouch, she started forward, her lips twinged upwards in anticipation even as her hands shook with nerves.

Every quarter hour or so, Katniss would stop, retrieve the pearl from its place at her wrist, and breathe on it to see the direction it mirrored. Besides a few slight corrections, she'd walked a steady path deep into the heart of the forest. Surely the lake must be close by now.

True to prediction, it wasn't long before the trees thinned around her, and she was looking out onto the sparkling ice of her father's lake, shining in the winter sun. Katniss drew closer to the shore and breathed deeply, remembering the scenery as it had looked in all the seasons of the year. She could feel the sense of peace she'd found that night slowly returning.

 

Once centered, Katniss knew it was time to summon Peeta.

 

*~*~ **2** ~*~*

 

Clove was exhausted and furious. For ages, it seemed as though Katniss had no idea where she was headed. Her tracks in the snow wound all over the forest, seemingly at random. Even so, Clove had dutifully carved markings into prominent trees she passed, hoping the king's men would catch up as quickly as possible.

 

Halfway into the trek, the trail of footprints had suddenly veered to the left, and the path remained direct from then on. Katniss must have _finally_ recognized the way. Clove reasoned it was just as well - her dithering would give the rest of the pursuers more time to reach them.

 

Now, though, Katniss was in sight, standing at the edge of a sizable lake with her back to the treeline. Just a few feet in, Clove huddled silently behind a large tree trunk. She'd been worried that Katniss would detect her presence, but luckily Clove had held back far enough to remain undiscovered.

 

She'd likely have to reveal herself soon. Now that Katniss had reached her destination, it was only a matter of time before the huntress performed whatever tricks she used to get the galanthus. But she couldn't be allowed to do so until the King and his men were present – otherwise the whole ordeal would have been for naught, and they'd end up in Snow's dungeon.

 

A few moments later, Katniss reached down to her wrist, and began fumbling with something there. Clove narrowed her eyes. Should she stop her? In this case, it was certainly better to be safe than sorry. If the king missed what he was seeking because she'd done nothing... Clove shuddered at the thought. Driven by her new fear of King Coriolanus, Clove decisively charged forward to halt her stepsister's actions.

 

Hearing the sound of feet sprinting in snow behind her, Katniss turned just in time to see a blur of white fur to tackle her to the ground. Though Katniss braced herself for a jarring landing, the impact was significantly broken by the snow. She frantically clawed at her assailant, thinking at first she'd been mauled by some hungry carnivore.

 

After getting a solid knee to the creature's midsection, and hearing a distinctly human, _“oomph!”_ Katniss paused momentarily in surprise. Who had found her all the way out here?

 

Unfortunately for Katniss, Clove took this moment of hesitation to get the upper hand, sitting squarely on top of her small frame, high enough on her torso to prevent Katniss' thrashing legs from having any effect on her incapacitation..

 

Clove loomed over her, breathing heavy, with murder in her eyes. She'd had the air knocked out of her, and her hatred for her stepsister was burning hotly in her chest. Clove swiftly leaned forward, using her body weight to pin the other girl's arms tightly beneath her knees. Katniss yelped in pain, and Clove smiled and pressed harder.

 

“What are you doing here?” Katniss spat, enraged. “I told you not to follow me!”

 

Clove sneered patronizingly, “You'll soon see, Katniss, how far in over your head you are. We _all_ are, so your little demands mean less than nothing to me!”

 

She drew the knife from a pocket in her skirts with a pleased flourish. “Now let's see what you have there,” she sing-songed. Katniss' breath caught in fear as the hand holding the knife moved toward her. Clove slipped the blade under the cloth braid around Katniss' wrist and sliced through the woven fabric, freeing the pouch.

 

Clove's greedy fingers soon tore open the fastening and tipped the contents into her hand. There the pearl rested, tones shifting beautifully in the center of her cruel hand. Clove's eyes widened as she noted the obvious enchantment on an already rare and precious object. Katniss cried out in dismay, seeing her last gift from Peeta taken away.

 

“Where did you _get_ this?” Clove asked in awe.

 

Sensing her distraction with the object she held, Katniss threw all her weight against Clove. It proved enough to force the girl off her chest. Scrambling away from Katniss, Clove got to her feet with the knife clutched purposefully in one fist, the pearl clenched securely in the other.

 

“Don't you dare try anything Katniss!” Clove shrieked in anger and distress.

 

But in putting distance between them, Clove made a grave error, for of the two of them, Katniss had the long distance weapon. The bow and quiver of arrows were still slung over her shoulder and around her back.

 

Shaking with anger, tears rapidly gathering in her eyes, Katniss glared at Clove, deliberately slinging the bow off her shoulder and calmly taking an arrow from her quiver. She fought to still the trembling of her hands as she nocked the arrow and drew the bowstring taut, lifting the weapon into position to aim the arrowhead straight at Clove's heart.

 

She let every bit of rage show on her face and in her voice, hoping it would be enough to sufficiently scare Clove. Katniss knew she couldn't shoot a person, not even one she hated as vehemently as her stepsister. But if she wasn't convincing enough, Clove would call her bluff and she'd never get her treasured gift back.

 

“The pearl, Clove. Drop it now, or you'll drop with it.”

 

As Katniss drew her weapon, Clove froze in fear and uncertainty. But she kept the little orb tightly clutched in her fist, unsure.

 

They regarded each other with hostility, having arrived at a stalemate. Clove was just reckless enough to risk keeping the pearl a few moments longer, and Katniss' mind raced as she tried to think of a way to scare her further. If too much time passed and she didn't make good on her threat, Clove was shrewd enough to realize there was little to fear.

 

Katniss readjusted her stance, drawing the bow further and trying to look more menacing. She realized with despair that it wasn't going to work. The hint of a gleeful smile edged onto Clove's lips just as a commotion at the edge of the clearing interrupted their standstill. Several uniformed men intruded upon the standoff. Then Merah was there, giving a shout of distressed surprise as she took in her daughter's predicament.

 

And still people filtered out of the woods onto the shore. Two snowy white horses glided from the trees, an old man and young woman astride, all in finery. The last addition to the crowd assembling was Farmer Abernathy, of all people, huffing and puffing and looking put out.

 

*~*~ **3** ~*~*

 

Katniss' heart stuttered to a halt at the scene around her. Clearly, Clove and Merah had lied, because the pair on horseback could only be King Coriolanus Snow and his granddaughter, Princess Coin.

 

She hadn't protected her lake. She'd led them right to it. With a snarl, Katniss rounded back on Clove, the one who'd done most of the lying and following, and who still possessed her pearl. But at the slightest motion of the King's gloved hand, numerous crossbows were leveled at Katniss by the surrounding troops. Seething but cornered, Katniss lowered her bow, a mutinous scowl on her features.

 

“She was hiding this,” Clove said obsequiously, turning the pearl over to a soldier, who then presented it to King Snow. Mockingjays in the trees beyond chattered angrily the moment he took it, and Katniss' stomach clenched in dread at seeing someone so monstrous and cruel hold Peeta's pearl.

 

“Marvelous,” he whispered, examining the pearl's enchantment. Holding it in his palm made him feel like he was finally at the cusp of discovering untold power. He showed it to the princess, but she sniffed at it, of the mind that pearls of any nature were too common for a princess, even enchanted ones. Only gold and gems turned her head. That, and galanthus.

 

To Katniss' surprise, the king then addressed her directly.

 

“Miss Everdeen, is it?” he inquired pleasantly, from atop his mount. She was disconcerted that he knew her name, and she narrowed her eyes in distrust.

 

“It has come to my attention,” King Coriolanus continued, “that you have the ability to induce flowers to grow.”

 

Katniss fought to maintain her composure. This was bad, very bad. The king's dogged search for the occult and subsequent extermination of all subjects accused of witchcraft was legendary.

 

“That sounds like such a _lovely_ ability. I was hoping you would give a little demonstration,” he said, his eyes widening with barely concealed hunger. Princess Coin nodded eagerly beside him.

 

“Go on, show us the galanthus!” she demanded imperiously.

 

Katniss stood, still as stone, not a muscle twitching on her impassive face. Neither denial nor confirmation of their claim could make the slightest bit of difference now. In the King's eyes, she was powerful and dangerous, and so her life was forfeit.

 

The princess could not abide being ignored. “You think to defy your monarchs?” she cried. “Perhaps an extended stay in the castle dungeon would loosen your tongue!” she threatened. Snow remained calm, regarding her with snakelike eyes, cold and loathsome. “Disarm her,” he intoned.

 

The men charged forward and surrounded Katniss. Two wrestled the bow out of her hands, and another yanked the quiver off her back. The arrow she'd held fell lightly to the ground. All the while, three other soldiers kept their crossbows aimed at her.

 

An older soldier approached her and clasped her wrists gently behind her back. “You must answer him Katniss, and do what he asks, or severe trouble will befall you,” a familiar voice said sadly in her ear.

 

She turned to see the speaker. It was Boggs, Captain of the Guard, who was detaining her. Katniss could tell he was torn. He was taking care not to hurt her, but she suspected any insubordination on his part would have grave consequences. The soldiers who had commandeered her weapons approached King Snow. “Destroy them,” he sneered with relish.

 

Katniss watched in horror as her father's bow was snapped over one man's knee. The other soldier dumped the contents of her quiver out onto the snow and snapped the arrows with his feet, tossing the vessel which had held them to the side.

 

Snow smiled smugly, pleased with the remorse on Katniss' face. “Now then, that was nothing, a mere trifle to show my displeasure with you. I want you to imagine what else I could damage irreparably with very little effort, Miss Everdeen. You had best cooperate if you value your well being.”

 

Katniss turned away from the ruins of her father's legacy, burying her grief deep within her, and stared out over the lake. She would not deign to grace the tyrant with her attention.

 

Snow growled at being so ignored yet again. “What if, Miss Everdeen, I _did_ consign you to the castle dungeons? I assure you, accommodations can be made.” Katniss began to tremble, but held her ground. No one would know of her fear but Boggs.

 

“Or perhaps,” he mused, “I could accuse you of witchcraft publicly, and we could have a little bonfire in the Capitol Square. You would be the main event, you see, burning at the stake for your heresy. How would you like to be a girl on fire?”

 

Despite being terrified, she still held firm.

 

“No? Still not enough to sway you? Then I suppose I will just have to burn down this forest to be safe. No knowing _what_ dark practices take place here, if you won't show us.”

 

At this, Katniss faltered, flinching in shock: her father's forest...Peeta's forest...the living things within it, her happiest memories, and the livelihood of many, would be razed to the ground. Would it hurt Peeta to lose a forest he was so closely tied to? He'd urged her to summon him if she was in danger. Katniss didn't want to involve him, didn't want to show him she'd failed him like this, but she had no other opportunity to survive or save the place she loved more dearly than any other.

 

“I'll do it,” she conceded hollowly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “But I'll need the pearl.”

 

The king smiled triumphantly, his expression revealing unbridled avarice. The soldiers stood at attention, and Merah, Farmer Abernathy, and Clove looked on with interest as the pearl was returned to Katniss.

 

Tears gathered in her vision and she closed her eyes to hold them back. Katniss clutched the pearl to her breast, softly singing the words Peeta had taught her, her voice raspy and catching with despair. The woods beyond fell silent.

 

_“Stop all the clocks, halt the sun here._

_Call forth the twelve months of the year._

_Pass through the dead of winter bleak,_

_Race through spring for the month I seek._

_Slip through summer, and sneak by fall,_

_Bring December to heed my call!”_

 

She heard a gasp from one of the onlookers and opened her eyes. As she raised her head, her gaze met a pair of bright cobalt eyes. When Peeta had said he'd be at her side, he hadn't been exaggerating. Mere seconds after she'd spoken the last word, he stood before her with a look of barely restrained joy. The soldiers surrounding them seemed frozen in awe of the young man who had appeared out of thin air.

 

“I'd scarcely hoped to see you again so soon, Katniss,” he said, breathless with happiness. “How do you come to need me so soon?” he asked, eyes only for her. But seeing the regret and guilt on her face, he quieted, and turned to look about him, noting the king, princess, soldiers, and other peasants. “Ah.”

 

His brow furrowed, and his face grew stormy as he noticed the coat Clove wore. The temperature dipped, but then dropped more rapidly when he turned back and saw the restraining hold Captain Boggs had on her wrists. Anger flared in Peeta's eyes.

 

Boggs was soundly knocked back several feet by a concentrated gust of wind. He stumbled backwards to catch his balance as Peeta issued a warning. “You stay away from her!” Peeta quickly turned his attention to her wrists, giving them a thorough perusal as he checked for bruises, seemingly unconcerned with those present once more.

 

“Who or what are you?” boomed the voice of King Snow, annoyed at being ignored in favor of a peasant girl.

 

Peeta paused his inspection of Katniss' person for any further little hurts and turned with annoyed exasperation to see who addressed him. He did not look impressed by what he saw.

 

“Answer your king!” Snow demanded.

 

“My name is Peeta,” the young man said, turning back to smile warmly back in Katniss' direction. He reached out and linked his fingers with hers, for it was she who had named him. Her heart leapt with relief. He wasn't furious that she had summoned him into this mess.

 

“I forbid you from touching that witch! Who knows what powers you are transferring to her!” Snow snarled. At the king's gesture, the foot soldiers drew nearer to Peeta, their crossbows now trained on his form. Peeta merely looked on calmly, slight amusement showing on his face. Katniss thought he seemed awfully agreeable to being captured.

 

“I assume it's you she's been communing with in this forest, to obtain the dark rituals she's no doubt been performing! I demand you tell us your true nature!” Snow said. The soldiers stepped even closer.

 

Peeta grimaced, before replying. “I am the month of December. I have dominion over the weather, the passage of the winter season into the new year, and I oversee the rites of men during my reign. Majesty,” he added as an afterthought

 

His shock and surprise was plain to see, but it wasn't long before only greed shone in Snow's eyes.

 

Peeta continued, “And I am willing to bargain a lion's share of my powers. Imagine all the might of winter behind your military campaigns. You could not be defeated.” Katniss was horrified. This turn of events was her doing. Peeta would suffer and Snow would be untouchable. As if knowing her dismay, Peeta squeezed her hand bracingly.

 

The king snorted.“Why should I bargain? I have you and the girl trapped! Why shouldn't you give me every bit of your power, in exchange for your lives?”

 

“Do you know _how_ to take the power from me, monarch? I think not,” Peeta jeered. “You cannot obtain it simply by killing me, for it must be freely given.”

 

Snow narrowed his eyes. “If that be true, why would you so easily cede your powers to another?”

 

“I would do it eagerly, because I wish to share a life with this mortal, and relinquishing the majority of my powers will place me on her mortal plane. But you must promise to let us live in peace, with no threat of interference,” he clarified.

 

Katniss gave a cry of despair at this, for though the possibility of leaving this place with Peeta was an outcome she hadn't even thought to hope for, Snow could not be trusted to uphold a bargain. His possession of new strength and abilities would only further ruin his kingdom. Peeta would sacrifice his magic, his connection to his siblings, and his extended life, all for nothing. And she'd put it all into motion. Katniss tugged at the hair at her temples as she looked down in shame. She couldn't watch.

 

But Peeta reached out to her once more, and swept a finger beneath her chin, gently drawing her gaze back to his. His eyes spoke comfort and requested trust, but above all, radiated love. Turning back toward Snow, who was already calculating what he would do with such power, Peeta asked, “Do we have a deal, King Snow? Would you like dominion over your namesake?”

 

It was too much for Snow, too tempting an offer to pause and consider longer. “I accept,” he said with relish. Peeta gave a single nod in acknowledgment and turned back to Katniss, holding his palm out to her.

 

“The pearl, Katniss.” Heartbroken, she reluctantly placed it in his palm. Its luminescence had faded to that of an ordinary pearl as soon as she’d completed the incantation. Peeta approached the greedy king.

 

“This pearl shall be the vessel. I will transfer my power to it, and then as long as you possess it, you will possess all the might of December. I must warn you, as the winter seeps from me, it will manifest around us before taking residence within the pearl,” Peeta cautioned.

 

“Yes, yes, get on with it!” Snow barked, rabid for power.

 

Peeta bowed his head as all assembled looked on. There was a pleased smile to his lips, and as the wind kicked up little flurries of snow around his feet, his eyes rose to hold Katniss' gaze.

 

The wind around him swirled, faster and faster, spreading out at the sides as it pulled the snow from the ground and sent it careening around the soldiers and onlookers. The chill air howled about them as it swept around, gaining momentum. Everyone huddled into their coats and braced themselves against the bitter cold as the temperature plummeted further. Merah and Clove clutched each other, and Farmer Abernathy grabbed a tree trunk at the edge of the clearing. The soldiers adjusted their stances while Princess Coin shrieked and pulled her hood over her face, huddling closer to her steed. Snow's eyes darted about, his face shining with pride and elated greed at that which would soon be his.

 

And still the wind blew harder. It gushed and circled so quickly, it felt as though the entire clearing was spinning out of control. Snowflakes danced frantically about them, and still Peeta held Katniss with his eyes. Then the skies opened up and billowing gusts of snow began to fall. Visibility rapidly decreased, and even the soldiers were crying out in distress.

 

Snow's voice, barely audible in the wind, could be heard commanding them to hold their ground, that it would be over once the fury had entered the pearl. After that, Katniss only heard the terrified whinny of the horses. She could barely make out Peeta. On her final glimpse of him, she swore she saw the wispy forms of January and February on the wind, smiling smugly over his shoulders.

 

Her feet felt frozen to the ground and she could barely move against the snow that had built up against her legs. Everything was furiously swirling white. Katniss extended her arm before her, trying to shield her face from the blizzard. She could no longer see Peeta. Surely everyone present would be frozen to death before his power settled into the pearl.

 

Suddenly, she felt a hand firmly clasp her own outstretched one, and someone came very close to her. Arms wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled into the solid form of another. Katniss was only too happy to huddle against this person, who stood much stronger against the gusting winds. Whether they spoke or not, she couldn't say, for nothing was audible over the deafening shriek of the wind.

 

Katniss fought to move her limbs, which were stiff and heavy with snow and ice. She was trembling violently, but managed to wrap them around her companion's torso, clinging to them as a last refuge. The white-out prevented her from identifying the person, but once their hands came up and drew her head down to their open collar, she knew.

 

Only December could bear to have an unbuttoned coat collar through this frigid madness. She was only too happy to tuck her face in the opening, hiding from the blizzard. He said something to her, but the wind garbled his words. She raised her face in question, and Peeta leaned his forehead against hers. Through her frozen lashes, she could see his kind, worried face looking down into hers.

 

He repeated himself, and the movement of his lips indicated the words, “Be strong.” She nodded, her teeth chattering as her loosened hair whipped across her face and eyes. Then she lowered her face back into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, and he did the same. Katniss could feel the coolness of his lips against the skin of her neck, distinct from the the biting chill of the weather.

 

Peeta could not keep her warm. He could only protect her from the worst of it, which, as she saw the dark form of a soldier nearby fighting to stay upright in the wind, was bad indeed. But she could give _him_ warmth. Just a little, but it was all she had to offer.

 

When the snow had reached her midsection, it abruptly stopped, and the sun came out. Snow cried out in triumph, somewhere to their left, and Katniss could hear Coin weeping by his side. The sun seemed oppressively bright for the winter, and as unbelievable as it seemed, Katniss soon felt herself begin to sweat.

 

The air became muggy and heavy with moisture as the temperature skyrocketed and the snow around them quickly began to melt.

 

“What treachery is this?” Snow cried, enraged. “You said nothing about the other seasons!”

 

As his horse dropped to its knees, exhausted in the heat, Snow staggered away from it, approaching them through the blistering heat. Coin followed suit.

 

“Sei-seize them,” he panted weakly, rivulets of sweat running down his face and into his pale beard. Despite Boggs' shouts to come to attention, the soldiers threw off their uniform coats and ran into the lake, trying to escape the oppressive heat. Clove and Merah shed their own coats and sought shade near Farmer Abernathy, who was lying in an exhausted heap at the foot of a tree, mopping his brow and cursing under his breath.

 

Katniss felt faint, but Peeta's cool breath on her skin kept her grounded. Her eyes drifted closed as she moved to unfasten the ties of her coat, but Peeta's hand stopped her. Her lids reopened, questioning, but Peeta held firmly to her coat, not letting her remove it.

 

Her attention was soon captured by shouts of fear from the lake. The surface of the water had frozen into a large ice floe almost instantly, but only in the area in which the king's men swam. The soldiers were trapped in it. At the same time, the skies opened up, issuing a torrential downpour. As inches of rain accumulated on top of the ice, the weight of the water pushed the floe, and the soldiers stuck within it, deeper into the surrounding water.

 

Katniss gasped as she spied a waterspout forming at the center of the lake. It leaned and swayed, and began a spinning approach in their direction. At this point, the soldiers contemplated a death by drowning in the water accumulating over the surface of the ice or being trapped in the path of the oncoming waterspout.

 

Katniss turned back to Peeta, worried they would be killed, but he allayed her concerns. “Don't worry, March and April will let them go before harm comes their way.”

 

No sooner had he spoken, than the cracking of ice could be heard, and the soldiers made a beeline for shore, eager to escape the funnel and the lake's treacherous waters. No sooner had the men alighted on shore, however, than a series of lightning strikes began on the other side of the lake, each one moving closer than the last along the water body’s perimeter.

 

Katniss swore she could hear the delighted cackle of July's laughter in each accompanying crack of thunder, but at this point, the soldiers had had enough. Ignoring King Snow's continual, frantic orders to detain Peeta, they sprinted away into the winter forest as fast as their feet could take them,. Coin called after them, promising each man a lengthy flogging for their insubordination, but none were swayed in the slightest by her threats. The waterspout drew nearer and nearer, blowing the discarded cloaks, coats, and uniforms about chaotically, then dispersed along with the lightning just as it reached the shore.

 

*~*~ **4** ~*~*

 

The temperature gradually returned to wintry levels, and a snow began to softly fall. The weather had returned to that of the early new year. Completely disheveled and enraged, and lacking in manpower, Snow roared in fury. Coin clung to him, sniveling her displeasure.

 

“Boggs! Your men have failed me utterly! Subdue this man yourself, or I'll see you _hang_. They’ll both rot in my dungeon for this!” he hissed.

 

But Captain Boggs didn't move. Without the presence of troops who were potentially loyal to the king, he was finally in a position to help Katniss. And unlike King Coriolanus, the might of the twelve months had been impressed upon him. He bent to retrieve a fallen crossbow, and upon rising, stood taller and prouder than he had in years, pointing the weapon not at Katniss and Peeta, but at King Snow. The monarch's face mottled with rage as Princess Coin gave a shocked gasp at the turn of events.

 

“No, Majesty. They won't,” Boggs said calmly. Something like a snort of laughter was heard from Haymitch's vicinity at the edge of the clearing.

 

Peeta stared at King Snow with revulsion on his face. “You are nothing but a foolish mutt, rabid and slavering for power, blind to your people's suffering,” Peeta scoffed. “You are no ruler.”

 

And with that pronouncement, Snow hunched forward and transformed into a wild dog, of the sort that roamed the woods. Coin shrieked and leaped away. He snapped at her heels before running mad into the forest.

 

No sooner had Princess Coin evaded the king's new form, than she saw the one remaining coat lying upon the ground. All the other discarded garments had blown away during the chaos. It was Katniss' white fur coat, and just as Coin reached it, Clove darted forward to reclaim it. They fell to the ground, each trying to tug it away from the other. They were still wrestling over it, when Merah joined them, trying to yank the fur from their collected grasps for her own benefit.

 

“And those two women refused you refuge in your own home the night of a blizzard? So you could feed their greed or die trying?” Peeta inquired carefully.

 

”Yes, and led the king and princess here,” Katniss admitted.

 

As the trio of women continued to shout at each other, Peeta approached them. “She's almost as bad as Snow!” he said of the Princess, with disbelieving horror. “And certainly, the two who left you at the mercy of the elements need to be punished,” he mused aloud.

 

“Maybe you could turn 'em into something a bit more useful this time, eh?” a gravelly voice called hopefully from the edge of the forest.

 

Peeta's lips quirked at Farmer Abernathy's suggestion. “I suppose I could, at that,” he conceded. Shortly after, there were three angry, honking geese pecking at each other over the coat below them, squawking indignantly at the situation

 

“Could you use some new geese, then?” Peeta inquired politely of the farmer.

 

Rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation, Haymitch approached the irate birds. “Sure could! I've been looking to restore Abernathy Farm to its past glory, and these birds'll certainly be a start!”

 

“Take care of them,” Peeta cautioned, “for in two years' time, if they have learned the humanity they neglected when among men, they shall turn back, and have a chance to make amends. As they are now, all three have no regard for anyone but themselves.

 

“In a position of power, as the princess is, that can only lead to power-hungry warmongering. Once she has attained all her kingdom has to offer, she will set her sights on the possessions of others, and sacrifice anything to obtain them. In that, she would truly resemble her grandfather. This is her best chance to become useful to her people.”

 

Boggs furrowed his brow, implications dawning. “But who will rule Panem?”

 

“Well, who'd he leave in charge?” Abernathy barked, as though the question was obvious.

 

“Minister Heavensbee,” the captain answered.”But-”

 

“Sounds like his problem to me! Tell 'im the truth, and tell everyone else the King's on a tour of his realm, or on a military campaign, or holed up in his hunting lodge. You think people are going to seek him out? The man was a feared mass-murderer!” farmer Abernathy stated.

 

"This Heavensbee, he's a public official, he must be good at making stuff up. He can say the princess is abroad, meeting some fictional prince she's betrothed to. This stuff writes itself!" he crowed. One of the geese, likely Princess Coin, voiced its displeasure at Abernathy's ingenuity.

 

The farmer chuckled to himself as he wrangled three angry geese into his arms and set off back to his settlement.

 

 

Boggs turned to Katniss. "I don't think you know yet what you've done for the people of this kingdom, standing firm and not cowering before Snow, summoning this man to dispatch him."  Boggs looked at Peeta a little nervously. "Thank you...December, wasn't it?"

 

 

 

Standing at her side, Peeta bobbed his head in affirmation, but Katniss was not surprised when he stayed silent, having already interacted with mortals far more than his brethren deemed prudent.

 

 

Boggs turned back to Katniss once more. "Are you...in need of assistance? An escort back to your home?" Boggs glanced quickly in Peeta's direction again, worry and slight distrust in his eyes.

 

Katniss couldn't help but smile at the thought that she would be anything other than utterly cared for in Peeta's hands. She looked up into his deep blue eyes, and saw an entreaty for her to remain behind.

 

"No, Captain Boggs, but I thank you."

 

"Shall I leave you here then?" he inquired one last time.

 

Peeta's hand found its way into her own. "Yes," she said happily.

 

The captain took his leave, leading the two horses and hurrying to catch up with the departing farmer, intent on further discussing solutions for the the vacant throne.

 

*~*~ **5** ~*~*

 

No sooner had the clearing emptied than Peeta tilted her head back and to the side, kissing along the column of her neck and up into the hair at her temple. He whispered in her ear how relieved he was that she was okay, that she was safe, before dragging his lips along the shell and lobe of her hear, mapping the contours with his lips. Her chest heaved in relief and quickly filled with a powerful hunger. She clutched him to her, squeezing his shoulders in response to his attentions, as he spoke once more.

 

“I know I have no right to you like this, but I need to feel that you're okay, my precious little mortal. I've been terrified that you would just up and expire before I'd seen you again, and then when I do, your life is being threatened!” She chuckled at his summation, breathless and delighted now that the danger had passed. “Katniss, it's been terrible without you. And after what just happened, I'm going to be selfish and ask something that's been on my mind since-”

 

But whatever he'd been planning to say was interrupted, as they were suddenly surrounded by all eleven of his siblings. All were talking at once, some laughed and patted each other on the back, others were complaining about all that had occurred.

 

 

"You see why we don't associate with humans like you?" July asked. Though she tried to look put out, her face was flushed with the excitement of creating thunderstorms and heatwaves.

 

 

"You loved it, Seven!" April laughed, as he slapped March on the back. "We all did pretty well, I'd say! That display will definitely tide me over for the next few months!"

 

November looked at all the coats she'd blown into the surrounding trees and giggled. But January interrupted them imperiously. "If you're all quite finished congratulating yourselves and encroaching on Twelve's reign, maybe he could get _back_ to it, so it's ready when I take it up a few days hence," she said, voice sharp as ice.

 

The Months mumbled as they began to disperse. November gave Katniss a friendly wave before she disappeared into a windy gust of leaves and April winked suggestively at her as he walked toward the lake, a wave sweeping him out of sight. But before July left, she stooped to retrieve the broken bow. As she held the supple wood in her hands thoughtfully, it suddenly began stitching itself back together.

 

She tossed it back to Katniss, a smirk on her face. "Unlike your bow, you're not easily bendable. I like that." And in the next instant, she disappeared with a deafening crack of thunder and lightning.

 

Peeta chuckled delightedly, "You're winning over _Seven_ , and April and November already really like you." Katniss grinned at his praise and pleasure.

 

The cold voice of January interrupted them. "I take my leave, Twelve. See if you can't stay out of trouble until your next reign," she jeered. Then she, too, was gone.

 

While her parting words were merely petty, they hurt Katniss immeasurably. "So it _wasn't_ true then?" she asked Peeta sadly.

 

At his questioning look, she elaborated, "That you could transfer a portion of your powers into the pearl, and gain a mortal life." She hadn't wanted him to forsake his abilities and his family, but Peeta's words about sharing a life with her had filled Katniss with the most unexpectedly wonderful feeling, even amidst all the pain and fear. She'd realized, with the display of heat, rain, and thunderstorms, that the work of the other months was at play. But still she'd hoped, secretly, that at least part of what he said was true: that he could stay with her.

 

Peeta's face fell, his expression quickly filling with remorse. It was all the confirmation she needed.

 

"You can't stay," she concluded quietly.

 

He took a deep breath, pain evident in his features. "I cannot give up who I am and become mortal for you Katniss, no."

 

"But what I said - that I wish to spend every endless minute of my life with you - that was true," he insisted. He gathered both her hands in his, drawing them to his chest in entreaty.

 

"Katniss, there is a hope that has commanded my every thought since you left my side. It may be reckless to offer, but I cannot let you go without at least asking. I'm unable to relinquish my place in the cycle of the years, but...it is possible for you to renounce your place in the world of men,” he admitted shyly, glancing up to see her reaction. If,” he hesitated, “a life with me would not be to your objection."

 

Katniss was shocked. Was such a thing possible? And could Peeta be sure he wanted  her company and affection so permanently? Prickly, stubborn, moody _Katniss_ _?_ Her doubt must have shown on her face, because he hastened to reassure her of his regard.

 

“I've seen all the beauty of the world, even created a good part of it myself,” he said, “but when you left the lake that morning, you took it all with you. I've seen countless sunrises and sunsets, but after spending a few hours with you, it was as if I'd never seen daylight before. “

 

“But I'm merely a peasant,” she protested. “How could I be a worthy companion to _you_ _,_ a force of time and nature?”

 

“I am far removed from the bloodlines of men. The difference between peasant and monarch is as insignificant as a single flake of snow in a raging blizzard. For me, you're perfect, and equal to the highest born king,” he said.

 

His words were beautiful, but he couldn't know what he was asking for. “I would not be an agreeable or easy companion. I think you would tire of me,” she admitted regretfully.

 

But still, he disagreed. “Being ageless, I well know what is precious and fleeting in the world. There are many sources of wonderment that to humans, seem rare and ephemeral, but are merely cyclical and will return after a short wait for me and my kin. But not everything. Some things truly _are_ one of a kind.”

 

He looked at her, his eyes brimming with esteem. “You are strong in a way beings more powerful than you have difficulty understanding. You are flowing over with color and life, to the point that it bleeds into my pale coolness whenever you're near. And you've retained that vitality despite the bleakness of your recent years. Of all the mortals I've seen and see now, Katniss, never have I known of one so lovely or so brave. And few as lonely,” he added gently.

 

“I know I'll never be able to forget you, or stop missing you terribly if this is truly our final parting. I would be devoted to you, Katniss,” he assured.

 

Her mind was racing. She didn't know what to think, much less what to say. The prospect of an entirely new sort of life was exciting, and she was elated to know that Peeta felt for her so strongly. A large part of her yearned to cling to him, to grab hold of Peeta and never let go while she had the chance.

 

But an equal part was unsure and confused. How would such a thing work? Could she trust that instinctual part of herself? Katniss had never stopped to consider what she'd wanted in life. For so long, she had only been surviving. Now it seemed that her life might truly be her own, and she wanted to explore what that meant.

 

“I do not make this offer lightly, Katniss. I've had limitless time to come to know myself and what I hold dear. I can well recognize what's rare and of value to me. But you have not had the time I have, and I could not ask you to make such a weighty decision right away. I ask, if it could be something you desire, that you deliberate on the matter for one year. If you determine, without reservation, that this is the life you seek, return to this lake on the next winter solstice.”

 

“Consider it carefully,” Peeta continued, “because once taken, the path you choose cannot be retraced. Should you consent to stay with me, the human world will be closed to you. Acquaintances will age and die before the blush of your youth has fully blossomed. And if you wish instead to find your place in the world you were born to, know that I wish you every joy and success, and that I will love you all the years of your life and long after,” he said softly. “Always.”

 

She hugged him to her, and they stayed for a time, silent and enjoying each other's presence, until it was time for him to resume his reign.

 

And again he presented her with his pearl, though now it was just like any other. She loved it no less, though, because it reminded her of the shine in his curls and on his eyelashes. He made sure she was properly bundled up, and then retrieved the coat that had been such a source of contention earlier, pressing the bundle of warm fur into her arms. It was in this way that he reluctantly left her, after a lingering and very hopeful kiss to her lips.

 

 

 

She stayed at the lake for hours after, reeling at all that had happened, and all the changes that had been wrought in so short a time. As dusk settled, she rose and turned for home, without the slightest conception of what she intended to do.

 

*~*~ **6** ~*~*

 

And so, a year passed.

 

King Snow had purportedly been touring the kingdom through the winter months, a fact that struck fear into the hearts of his subjects, for they never knew when their little village would be unlucky enough to bear his scrutiny. When hunting season started up again, the king was tragically felled by wild dogs while on a hunt, having ventured deep into the woods away from his hunting party, lured by the song of a mockingjay.

 

Katniss had taken to visiting old farmer Abernathy a couple of times a week, for company, to check on the geese, and to help him rebuild his farm. They liked to laugh together as Heavensbee's subterfuge unfolded. By the time the kingdom found itself without a ruler, a distant cousin of the king's, Lady Paylor, just so happened to be visiting, after spending decades in hiding as her cousin had decimated all their relatives.

 

Lady Paylor was quickly installed as interim ruler until Princess Coin returned from her trip abroad. And so, the kingdom was caught up in the spirit of bereavement, as the citizens of Panem eagerly gathered to grieve the loss of their beloved ruler. Many memorial feasts and dances were held, and it was undoubtedly the remembrance of their king that caused all the smiles and laughter interrupting the otherwise mournful festivities.

 

Katniss had thrown herself into an exploration of what life had to offer. She tried to put herself forth into the world in little ways – she owed it to herself to try. No longer forced to hide her activities in the woods, Katniss soon found she could make a living quite handily by selling game and wild plants from the forest.

 

Recognizing that more individuals like herself were needed, she enlisted the aid of woodcutter Hawthorne, promising that a career as a hunter would support his family far better than if he only chopped wood. His younger brother took up the axe, and Gale joined her on the hunting trails. They quickly became friends and hunting partners.

 

But Katniss knew she would never stop longing for Peeta. He was the kind of person one could not look away from, once found, and the presence of the pearl was a constant. She brought it out often, to whisper across her lips or just hold in her hands.

 

She sent Captain Boggs her first batch of late summer apples. She met people in town while trading. But the whole time, she felt as though she was waiting for something. It had been that way almost from the beginning, and though she threw herself into her new activities, she couldn't help but feel that they were a method of distraction, rather than undertaken solely for their own sake.

 

This realization had never been clearer than after she'd found her favorite hobbies. Katniss discovered that she felt great satisfaction when collecting, pressing, and documenting the flora of each season. She'd been adding to the blank pages at the end of her parents' plant book, and it wasn't until she'd found herself sighing and counting how many pages would likely be filled before winter that she realized she was meticulously documenting the passage of the year.

 

Her other favorite thing to do was spend hours in the woods. This was nothing new, but _she_ was different now. She'd venture much farther than she had ever dared, and now, instead of thinking she could catch glimpses of her father, she half-convinced herself that every flash of movement, every unexpected sound, was Peeta. Every time her hearth thrilled, only to find out it was merely her imagination. Still, she could not stop going. She craved the solitude, and the closeness she felt to him when she was there.

 

She took to talking to Prim aloud on these trips, wondering where she was, and if she was happy. Inevitably, she told her all about Peeta, and asked the answering silence what she should do come December. Katniss imagined all the fantastical lands and sights Peeta had seen, and asked Prim if she could now see them too.

 

But the only ones who chimed in were the mockingjays.

 

As the months slowly passed, Katniss went into the woods more than ever before. Despite everything, she was becoming more attached to the unseen world than the one she inhabited, and the forest was the only place she felt real and whole. Eventually, she found the lake on her own, without the help of Clove's tree markings. Soon, she was so familiar with the layout of the forest, she felt she could have rivaled her father's knowledge. It wasn't long before she could find the way to the lake in her sleep, practically.

 

And she did, in a sense, for in her dreams she found herself there as well, reliving and elaborating on the events that had taken place. Her dreams were merciful, in that when she burst into the clearing surrounding the lake, he was always there, waiting for her, and she didn't have to choke back her disappointment like she did when visiting it in her waking hours.

 

She's not sure when she made the decision, she only knows it snuck up on her, until one day she realized it had already been made, and she'd been assuming a certain course of action for weeks.

 

In October, she realized that Gale had surpassed her skill in devising snares.

 

When the repairs to the farm were completed in November, Haymitch thanked her and gave her a knowing smile, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of finality about the whole interaction. She visited his three original geese before leaving, and if it was possible, she could have sworn they'd looked contrite.

 

When she woke up to the first snowfall of the year, she found herself laughing and bounding out the door and into the morning sunshine, still wearing her nightgown.

 

On December First, her hands wouldn't stop shaking, and she sang more in the following three weeks than she had in the last three years.

 

As the waning sunlight dimmed on the twenty-first, Katniss carefully fastened the fur coat about her, and looked around at the little cottage she'd cleaned top to bottom. She brought all of her remaining tesserae grain to the foot of the apple tree, where the mockingjays would be sure to find it. Then she headed to Abernathy farm.

 

Katniss gently set her father's red coat down on the doorstep. Haymitch was too caught up in caring for his birds to pay attention to his own needs, and he could use a warm coat this winter. She wouldn't be needing it, now.

 

On her way through the forest, she stopped at Gale's shack, and quietly laid her bow, arrows, and quiver against the door. She knew he’d take care of them.

 

At the lake, she sat and waited, perfectly still, as though in a deer blind. Katniss reminisced on the past year. It was a good one, though it had seemed interminable near the end. She felt perfectly calm, completely at peace. The plant book rested in her lap. She wondered if he'd help illustrate the the notes when the plants she pressed into the pages this past year inevitably crumbled to dust. She knew they eventually would, because she and Peeta would have the book forever. She was excited to see how he used color when painting a page, and not the earth and sky.

 

She reminded herself this was final, that once he was here, and she set foot on the lake, returning to the mortal world would mean her death. She told herself that anything could happen, should she choose to stay behind. Everything was constantly changing, in ways unimaginable to her, and there was plenty left to experience.

 

As good as the year had been, as hopeful as the future was, it wasn't enough. All of the people she'd met had shown her something special, but it wasn't what she sought. Katniss had already found what she was looking for.

 

She'd spent the year missing him. His absence was always in her periphery, in every action and conversation, as though her sense of balance had subtly shifted, and his presence evened it out. Peeta's kindness and manner created warmth in the cold, and despite the chill of his skin, it followed him everywhere. Every time they touched, it had grown between them like an expertly tended fire. Without Peeta, everything was just...less.

 

Katniss looked to the forest. Of everything in her life, she would miss her family's wood and the mockingjays within the most. When the soft orange glow of an enchanted fire lit the side of her face, she turned from the woods, and did not turn back.

 

Gathering the book in her arms, she got to her feet, looking out across the ice. And there it was, that head of almost colorless waves, which caught the glow of the fire and turned it to gold. Her lips pulled up into a helpless smile at the sight of him. He was welcoming the rest of the months as they appeared, spreading his cheer and good humor to all the rest. When his eyes found hers, he grinned impossibly wider. Never taking her eyes from him, she stepped out onto the ice.

 

*~*~ **The End** ~*~*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me on this tale! For any that are still curious about this version of Katniss, there will be a very small epilogue posted in a week, but the story, to me, feels complete here.
> 
> As for the other eleven Months' identities, some of their identities were clear, some I tried to add little clues about, and some were very vague. They are as follows:
> 
> January - Glimmer
> 
> February - Brutus
> 
> March - Beetee
> 
> April - Finnick
> 
> May - Foxface
> 
> June - Female Morphling
> 
> July - Johanna
> 
> August - Cecelia
> 
> September and October - unknown victors/tributes
> 
> November - Rue
> 
> Come visit on tumblr! I'm GhtlovesThg :)


	4. Epilogue: Wed to the Winter

_*~*~*~*~*_

 

The forest was at once different and completely the same. All the trees Katniss had once walked amongst were long since dead, turned to rot and feeding newer growth. The leaves and boughs over her head were many generations younger than the ones she'd known. But still, she would recognize her forest anywhere.

 

She needn't have worried about it before leaving her mortal life behind. The trees and jays persisted and thrived long after her cabin had fallen apart, and the people she'd known were nothing but a memory to the humans dwelling nearby. Whether Clove, Merah or Coin had ever managed to reclaim their human forms, Katniss did not know. The power structure in the region had been reshaped many times over. Several of the locals bore a similar resemblance to Clove and Merah, though.

 

Regardless, returning here was always a homecoming. She breathed deep and concentrated, focusing on the forest, until she could feel their presence. When he'd offered her a place at his side, Peeta hadn't told her how her senses would intensify and expand. Deeply tied to him, and by extension the natural world, Katniss was able to feel a sort of spirit in her surroundings. Peeta had once said he could feel the forest's knowledge of her, and in a way, she could do the same. Nowhere was she more attuned to her environment than in her woods.

 

The terrain held centuries of memories, and with a little effort, she could concentrate on the impressions her family had left behind. Soon, Katniss could hear her father in the mockingjay songs that spread back and forth through the woods, and feel his solid reassurance in the sturdy, towering evergreens. Her mother's breathy murmurs and lullabies traveled on the wind, and Prim's laughter bubbled from the brook feeding the lake.

 

She came here most Decembers, to feel close to her family while Peeta painted his influence the world over. Even knowing they would never be separated long, their partings each November were tender and reluctant, while their reunions each January were especially sweet. Just days ago, Peeta had rained kisses over her face, whispering plans for the coming year and promising her the most beautiful December yet. During the other eleven months of the year, they traversed the planet together. Even after so long, there were still sights she had not seen, and Peeta was ever eager to share in her wonderment. They added to her plant book, now many volumes long, and above all, cherished each other's company.

 

Some years, she would follow the progress of Peeta's reign, witnessing the many and varied celebrations he oversaw, ones she'd only ever imagined as a mortal. The world of men was always a lively source of amusement. The pair both admired their progress and lamented their errors, chuckling at their folly, and frequently cheering for their tenacious ingenuity.

 

Many of the the other months had come to feel like extended family to Katniss, which she supposed they were. She often visited them during her travels, and found a certain sense of belonging with many of them. She also met a few others like her, people who'd been mortal. She was especially fond of Annie, a girl April had found swept away in the overzealous riptide of the spring sea. With no recollection of her origin, Annie had come to rely on the month himself for a place of belonging. And April had discovered he needed her outlook, both fresh and beautiful, to reinvigorate him and provide the inspiration for all the verdure of spring.

 

She and Peeta had just such an accord, where one's existence sustained the other. And should she wish it, they could sustain and nourish another's as well. Though Katniss had noticed upon their first meeting that some months looked older than others, the youngest she'd seen being November, she had not realized this indicated a lifespan of their own. Compared to that of a human, it was unimaginably vast, but there was the possibility of succession. The eleventh month Katniss knew had arisen from a union between the former November and a companion, and the cheery girl had assumed dominion over her month when the pair felt ready to gradually fade from existence.

 

Katniss felt certain that one day, she and Peeta would eagerly welcome a future heir to the twelfth month, but that time would be long in coming. When it did arrive, and Peeta held the child in his arms that would one day be known as December to the world, and Twelve to its kin, Katniss knew she'd give it something extra, something special from her life as a mortal, in the form of a name all its own, like she'd once given Peeta. But for now, and for countless future years, Katniss was perfectly content as she was: touring the world with Peeta, taking in the seasons, wed to the winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made some edits to the first two chapters when posting this. Just very minor changes to correct errors, flesh out foreshadowing, and make it flow a little better. If people following are notified(?), nothing major was changed.
> 
> Thank you all for exploring this little tale with me. :) I'll be working on other stories/art in the future, so come visit me on tumblr: GhtlovesThg
> 
> Can it be spring now? ;)


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